


Shadows Over Atlantis

by Slybrarian



Series: Strange Aeon [6]
Category: Cthulhu Mythos - Lovecraft, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-22
Updated: 2009-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-05 00:49:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slybrarian/pseuds/Slybrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Atlantis Expedition settles into their new home, they discover that they may not be as safe as they believe. Something dangerous is lurking in the city, and worse yet, someone among them may have been compromised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shadows Over Atlantis

John was thirty-five million light-years from home in an alien city that pre-dated his entire species by countless millions of years. He was a member of an expedition that had been billed as the (potentially one-way and quickly fatal) adventure of a lifetime. Said expedition was part of a small, elite organization dedicate to protecting the human race against dangers from beyond the stars. Yet, despite all that, there he was, sitting around a conference table listening to departmental reports, like he was once more stuck in any other unit in the US military.

Some things, it seemed, were universal.

On the bright side, no one was using PowerPoint, which was a step up from the usual fare at meetings. Evan was a sexy son of a bitch, but even he would have trouble making one of those presentations anything but dull and dreary. It also helped that everyone seemed to view the meeting as a necessary evil, rather than an end unto itself.

"So basically we're looking at about a month less than we originally projected on food supplies," Evan was finishing up. "Honestly, it doesn't worry me all that much. We've still got plenty of leeway for getting new food sources established, and that's going to be a lot easier than planned with the Athosians to help us out. If anything, we're going to be self-supporting earlier than expected and we'll be able to save more MREs and canned goods for later."

"Thank you, Major," Elizabeth said. "I think that leaves us to our last report for the morning, which is from Major Sheppard regarding security. Major?"

John stood up and made his way to the display set up near the front of the room. "Thank you, ma'am. As some... well, okay, half of you know, Gunnery Sergeant Bates and I spent all of yesterday surveying the control tower and working out where our perimeter is going to be. I'd like to thank Doctor Grodin, Major Lorne, and the rest of the space management team for their cooperation and clarity in spelling out what areas we're going to be working in for the immediate future."

He picked up the screen's remote and clicked it. An image of the city appeared. It was a basic outline map pulled from the database. At the very center was a tiny red dot. "The city itself is way too big for us to possibly handle, so we've decided to concentrate on the control tower. Of course, given that it's over a mile high, that still leaves us with an unmanageable amount of area to cover. There's not just the floor space to consider, but also the amount of stair climbing involved. I'm sure you've all noticed that the Ancients apparently didn't believe in elevators."

John clicked the remote again, this time bringing up a diagram of the tower's upper reaches. "We're going to be occupying the twenty or so levels immediately below the control tower, plus the ones up to the top. Luckily for us this includes the wonderful hotel rooms we're all moving into, various lab areas, a number of public facilities, what we think is an emergency infirmary, and most importantly, the puddle jumper hangar. We think that most of this tower was actually meant to support stargate operations and critical city functions, which suits us just fine. We'll be establishing patrols throughout the occupied areas, plus permanent checkpoints here on Level 117, just above the first crossover bridge to the next tower over."

"Wait, what?" McKay said. "That's barely any room at all! How are we supposed to get anything done? It's bad enough I already have to share my lab, now we can't even leave the building?"

"I don't think working in the same room as Zelenka is going to hurt you, McKay," Grodin quietly muttered.

"You say that now, but you'll be singing a different tune when he makes something explode and I end up crippled or dead," McKay retorted. He turned to Elizabeth. "The entire point of being here is to explore the city. We can't do that if we're crammed into a few dozen levels of one tower."

"Actually, I was going to say that a smaller perimeter lets us have more men to escort scientists who are exploring the rest of the city," John said, "but if you're set on complaining about oppression, I'm sure Bates would be thrilled to find new and exciting ways to make you irritable."

"I'm not whining."

"Then clearly I'm not doing my job very well. Maybe I really should say that no one's allowed to leave. I'd make my life a lot easier for sure."

Almost everyone but Rodney was smiling at that point, even if Elizabeth was doing her best to keep a straight face.

Evan lifted his hand. "I promised the botany and farm guys that I'd arrange for an escort to the east pier. Our visual recon spotted something that looks like a park out there and they want to test the soil."

"Oh, sure, they can go," John said. "Only physicists are restricted."

"What?" McKay squawked.

"Hey, they need to go out and take samples and stuff. You can work just fine in your room with a laptop."

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you can work this out some other time," Elizabeth said chidingly. "Anything else, Major?"

"Not much that can't be saved for another meeting once it's all finalized. Sergeant Campbell is working with Doctor Kusanagi on deploying our CCTV network. We expect to have it operational in all key areas by the end of the week."

_That_ was definitely one of the creepier things John had discovered during his foray into security planning. Covering important places like the gate room, mess, and infirmary with cameras was understandable; using cameras designed specifically so they could be remotely loaded with basilisk software and turned into a look-to-kill death ray seemed a bit on the excessive side. John really would have preferred not knowing that the SGC's pervasive surveillance system could have gone bonkers and barbecued him at any moment.

"Excellent. I look forward to seeing your final plan." Elizabeth looked around the table. "Does anyone need to add anything?"

"I do," Cam said. "I'd appreciate it if you'd all pass on to your departments that we're going to be forming off-world teams soon and that anyone interested should contact me. I sent an email, but sometimes I get the feeling no one's reading those."

John rolled his eyes. Cam had come to get him for the meeting, wondering aloud if John had somehow forgotten about it. John did read his email and hadn't forgotten about the meeting; he had just been planning to show up exactly on time. For some reason, Cam didn't believe him.

"Thank you, Colonel. If there's nothing else, you're all free to go."

"What have you got planned for the rest of the day?" John asked Evan as the meeting broke up.

"Right now, I'm going to hit the sack. I've been up for eighteen hours." Evan gave John a pointed look. "Which I know you know, since we flipped a coin for the night shift."

"I'll walk you to your room," John suggested innocently. The sly smile he got in return was anything but innocent. Unfortunately, they didn't even make it to the door before they were rudely interrupted by a shout.

"Major!" McKay said. "Where are you going?"

"I think that means you, Lorne," John said quietly.

"Fuck you, Sheppard," Evan hissed back.

"That's exactly what's _not_ going to happen if you don't distract him so I can make my escape."

"Major Sheppard!" McKay called. "What, are you suddenly deaf?"

John sighed, stopped, and turned around. "What do you need?"

"You're scheduled to help in the lab."

"Really? Damn, there must be some kind of mix-up," John said with his best 'who, me?' expression. "I've got some other work to do. Right, Colonel?"

Cam glanced away from the conversation he was having with Elizabeth. "No, you really don't."

"I'm pretty sure I do, Mitchell," John said, switching expressions to a 'back me up or die' glare.

"Nope. Go on, make yourself useful and help the doc," Cam said with a shooing gesture.

"Traitor." John looked at Evan and shrugged. "Guess I'll have to take a rain check."

"Pity. Have fun, and good luck." Evan clapped John on the shoulder. "You'll need it."

"Are you done chatting," McKay asked, "or do I need to spend a little more time standing around waiting instead of saving all our lives?"

"No one's going to die because you stand around for ten seconds, Rodney," John said. Together they started walking down to the gate room floor and off toward the nearest stairwell. McKay's lab was five levels below the stargate operations center, which put it conveniently about halfway between there and the mess.

"Maybe not at the moment, no, but I don't want you to start getting bad habits."

"I don't suppose we could go up and study the jumpers instead of whatever you have planned."

"You know, that's a wonderful idea, Major," McKay replied. "We could go play around with the gateships while ignoring the random pieces of technology that are scattered around the areas we're going to live in. I'm sure nothing could possibly go wrong with that."

"I'm just saying, I think we'd both have more fun with the _jumpers_, and that knowing how they work and how to fix them is more important than making sure the dishwasher in the mess is really a dishwasher."

McKay gave him the evil eye. "You mean the dishwasher that Markham used to flood the kitchen knee-deep in alien soap?"

"You know what I mean."

"I do. Believe me, I would like nothing more than to study the... ships in more detail, but quite frankly I will sleep a lot better once I'm sure nothing in my quarters is going to kill me." McKay shrugged. "Maybe we can find some time later, but for the moment I need to make sure none of my staff is about to kill us all."

"They're smart people, Rodney. They're not going to kill us all."

"They're smart, but not smart enough," McKay responded as they left the stairwell. "It's like they fall into the uncanny valley of intelligence. On one side there are the marginally smart but useful people, like veterinarians or whoever invented the elevator." He paused a moment to glare back over his shoulder. "On the other side, there's me and, well, Samantha Carter. Then in the valley there's all the people I'm forced to work with, who are just smart enough to be dangerous but not smart enough to realize it. It's like I'm surrounded by fifteen-year-olds."

John thought about the teenagers he knew. He didn't have a lot to compare to, but based on his experience most people at that age were rarely dangerous to anyone unless you were allergic to angst. "Fifteen-year-olds are harmless, McKay," John said as they entered the lab. "Mostly harmless, at any rate."

"Maybe most of them are, but these morons," McKay said, waving at the handful of scientists in the room, "are more like _me_ at fifteen, and I almost re-landscaped Vancouver at that age. Let me tell you, there's nothing like having your science fair project stolen by CSIS and the NID and spending four hours under interrogation because you almost invoked Yog-Sothoth."

"As I recall, Rodney," Doctor Markov said from across the lab, "your sister helped you with that. Surely you should take that into account and acknowledge we're at least equal to you at twenty."

"Details," McKay scoffed. "I did all the real work. Giving her credit would be like giving credit to a graduate assistant."

"You have a sister?" John asked.

"I had a sister, until her brain was melted by an alien entity."

John winced. "I'm sorry. Was it a lab accident?"

"Worse. Marriage to an English major."

"Rodney is perpetually annoyed that Jeannie chose to have a family," Markov explained. "He thinks it is an affront to science or some such nonsense. Never mind that her paper last year on methods for statistically determining the validity of a belief was absolutely brilliant."

"And just think about how much more brilliant science she could do if she wasn't working out of her kitchen," McKay said scathingly. "Now, are we here to discuss my personal life, or are we here to work? Zelumpa, what are we testing first?"

"I am apologizing," Doctor Zelenka said. "I do not know of whom this Zelumpa you speak about is."

"Stop pretending you can't speak English and answer the question."

Zelenka sighed and waved for John to come over to the long lab bench he was standing next to, upon which various Ancient devices were arrayed. "Major, if you could touch this one first?"

John eyed the device in question. "That's a lamp."

"Yes, I agree, it looks like a lamp, but still we must test it to make sure."

Thirteen years in the Air Force, millions of dollars of training in how to fly advanced aircraft, lead men, and a doctorate in mathematics had all lead John to this: being a glorified lightswitch. It was almost enough to make him cry, if he were the sort to cry, which he wasn't. It was a good thing that the sheer awesomeness of the rest of the city was enough to make up for it.

John spent most of an hour helping the technology geeks examine various devices. They had found a few weird gizmos here and there as they searched the rooms of the upper control tower, but thus far almost all of the things they had found were everyday household items. The Ancients seemed to have taken a lot of their gadgets with them when they had left, most notably clearing out the large armory located just below the gate room. All they had found there was row after row of empty charging racks, with nary a death ray to be found. There was some interesting stuff, like the tricorders in the jumpers and the medical scanners in the infirmary, but thus far the majority of their finds fell into the category of somewhat useful but dull.

Much to John's relief, Jinto came running into the lab, calling, "Major Sheppard!"

"Hey, Jinto," John said, ignoring McKay's indignant squawk. "What's up?"

"I've found something amazing. Come, let me show it to you!"

"Really? Cool. Where is it?"

"Major," McKay said, "we're not done."

"I need a break," John said. "You can come too, if you want."

"He's probably found a toilet or something."

"Or maybe it's a ZPM machine," John said. "But hey, suit yourself."

He wasn't very surprised when McKay decided to tag along. Jinto led them down a couple of stories and to small, circular room the opened off one of the main corridors. John had seen plenty of them during his security planning; a couple of them near the gate room were being used as closets.

"I was in one of these rooms," Jinto said, "and I bumped this at the back, like this," he tapped the wall and part of it suddenly lit up like a screen, displaying a map of the city. "Then I touched it here, and this happened."

"Whoa, hold on," John said, too late to stop Jinto from demonstrating. The door closed and there was a momentary flash before it opened again. Cautiously John stuck his head outside and after a moment he realized that they were in a different corridor. There was a window right across from the door and it looked out on a completely different part of the city than the control tower did. "Huh."

"Huh, what?" McKay said. "Oh. That's odd."

"Yeah," John said. He touched the map, this time right at the edge of one of the piers. There was another flash and then they were surrounded by rings, which dropped down and disappeared into the floor, leaving them out in a wide open area near the ocean.

"Those rooms must be a variation on the ring transporters," McKay said. "You know, I remember one of the control room displays saying that public transportation had been initialized when we arrived. This is probably what that meant."

"I guess it makes more sense than elevators and subways," John said.

"Let's see, there's probably some kind of control around here," McKay said. He raised one of his hands and a holographic display appeared, just inside where the rings would be. "There we go. So this map is how you choose your destination... I wonder." He touched a character outside the map proper, causing a set of Ancient numbers to appear. "Okay, and those control what level you end up at. That means if I do this," he tapped several numbers and then the control tower, "we end up here."

A moment later they were looking at the corridor outside the gate room.

"Good find, Jinto," John said. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a Snickers, which he handed over. "McKay and I need to do some work. I'll catch you later."

"Thank you!" Jinto said before darting off.

John turned to see McKay glaring at him. "What?"

"A Snickers? For finding something by accident?"

John rolled his eyes and punched in the location of the makeshift headquarters area the military staff had set up. "Bates," he said into his radio, "what's your location?"

"I'm in my office, sir."

"Come down the, ah, southwest corridor, would you?"

"Yes, sir." Bates came trotting down the hall a minute later. John waved for him to enter the transporter, earning himself a dubious look. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"Watch this." John sent them out to the ocean-side transporter again.

"Oh." Bates grimaced. "That's great, sir."

"I thought so to." John turned to McKay. "Can you restrict where these things can go?"

McKay frowned. "Why would we want to do that?"

"Because otherwise an alien could crawl out of the ocean, hit a couple of buttons," John demonstrated, "and end up about twenty feet from your bedroom."

"Aha. Yes, so they could. I'll see what I can do."

"Meanwhile, Gunny, it looks like you and I get to completely redo all the planning we just finished."

"Words cannot express my joy, sir," Bates said dryly.

It didn't completely destroy all the work they had done, but it came close. Any kind of checkpoint system was useless if someone could press to buttons and bypass it and patrols were going to be more difficult for the same reason. On the plus side they would be able to access the rest of the city without going up and down hundreds of flights of stairs, but that was a small consolation for seeing an entire day's work thrown out the window.

When McKay called him just after lunch, John leaped at the chance to go back to doing anything but stare at a map and try to locate all the transporters in the control tower. They were surprisingly numerous, at least one for every level, which meant plenty of holes in their perimeter that could be exploited.

"Tell me you can shut off the transporters," John said as he entered one of the labs.

"What?" McKay replied. "Oh, that. I completely forgot about it."

"McKay," John growled. Before he could fully express his annoyance, he spotted something stuck to McKay's chest. It was small, maybe the size of a travel mouse, and looked sort of like a turtle's shell. It was glowing a bright green. "What's that?"

"It's an Ancient device I found," McKay said with a smile. "Hit me."

John clenched his fist, then paused. McKay was not the sort of person to say that sort of thing under any circumstance. He definitely wouldn't be smiling when he did so. Either the device was altering his mood, in which case hitting him would result in all kinds of bitching, or he was up to something. John did the smart thing and carefully poked McKay in the arm instead. His finger was stopped half an inch from McKay's shirt by a green energy field.

"Is that a personal shield?" John asked, smacking McKay's arm.

"It is," McKay said. He bounced on his feet a little. "I found it in one of the labs. I think it was a new, experimental model and that's why it got left behind."

"Sweet. How'd you get it to turn on?"

"Carson gave me the gene therapy, and it worked like a charm."

That gave John a pause. "The experimental gene therapy? I thought that was still in animal testing."

McKay shrugged. "He said it was ready and I volunteered to be the first to get it."

John wasn't sure who would possibly think that it was a good idea to start human testing a dubious gene therapy on the chief scientist. Then he remembered that it was McKay, whose gene-envy knew no bounds, and Beckett, who in John's opinion was entirely too fascinated with genetics.

"Do Elizabeth and Doctor Lam know about this?"

"What they don't know won't hurt them," McKay said. "It's more important that we test this thing out."

"How?"

"I don't know. Maybe you could shoot me?"

"Shoot you," John said, entertaining the idea for just one, very pleasant moment. "And if it doesn't work?"

McKay frowned as he thought it through. "Okay, good point."

"Hold that thought for just a minute," John said. He left the lab and returned a short time later with a zat, promptly shooting McKay with it. He was a little bit disappointed by the results, but that disappointed was outweighed by how cool the shield was.

"I'm invulnerable!" McKay crowed. "Come on, let's try something else."

They tried a few other things, although nothing too dangerous. Mostly John hit McKay with increasingly large and heavy objects. It didn't take long them to realize that he seemed impervious to any kind of impact, even one from jumping off a table.

That gave them an awesome idea for how to publicly demonstrate their new toy.

* * *

"I'm very sorry about this," Elizabeth said as she, Teyla, and Cameron sat in her office and viewed the images from the MALP they had sent through to Athos. The area surrounding the gate was charred and pitted, looking more like a battlefield scared by artillery and thermobaric weapons than the lush clearing that had been there before. Some spots were still glowing white-hot in the infrared. "I can't help but think we might be responsible somehow."

Teyla shook her head. "The Wraith come when they come. What is important is that you saved those who were taken."

"I'm thinking we could send a jumper through tomorrow to do an aerial survey," Cameron said quietly. "That way we can see how far the damage extends. It's possible there might be something we can salvage."

"Not just possible, but likely," Teyla said. "We have several caches at our other regular camps for just this situation, as well as difficult to move items such as the aging vats for our wines. Most of them are several days' travel from the gate, but with your aircraft, accessing them should be simple. My largest concern is posting a warning for our trade partners near to the gate, so that they can know that we have not been wiped out."

"We're willing to assist in any way we can," Elizabeth said. "You're welcome to stay here in the city as long as you need to."

"Thank you. With luck we will be able to resettle soon. We are grateful for the shelter you have given us, but many of my people find living here to be... disquieting."

"I understand completely." Many among the expedition found the city difficult to get used to as well. There were a number of things slightly off about it, ranging from the slightly too-orange color of the sun to the length of the days to the seemingly random layout and shapes of the rooms. The only people who seemed completely ease were those with the gene.

"Is there anything that we can do to repay you for your help? You have been very generous, but I know that your resources can not be unlimited."

"Actually, there is something," Cameron said. "We're putting together some teams to explore other worlds and start some trade relations. We'd really appreciate it if any of your people would be willing to help us do that."

He had pitched the idea to Elizabeth earlier that morning, pointing out that Stargate Command had a long history of incorporating off-world allies into SG teams. She knew that he was referring to Teal'c and Jonas Quinn, of course. His idolization of SG-1 was evident to anyone who even skimmed his psych profile. She wasn't quite as sanguine about the idea, given that some of the trouble the SGC had experienced with other allies like the Tok'ra, but the idea still had merit.

"Of course," Teyla said with a smile. "I would be more than happy to assist you personally. Will Major Sheppard be leading one of these teams?"

"Yeah, he will."

"Then I would like to join his, if it is possible. I owe him a great personal debt."

Cameron nodded. "I don't see any problem with that, and I doubt he'll object."

"Have you given any consideration as to what you are able to trade?"

"We brought several potential trade goods, and no doubt there's a number of services we can provide as well," Elizabeth said. "Given the ocean around us, I imagine that salt could be one of our main -- what are they doing?"

She had happened to glance out the window out into the gate room and saw that, for reasons she couldn't imagine, Rodney had gotten up on the railing of the balcony opposite her office and was now sitting on it. John was saying something to him while gesturing around the room, then without warning he gave Rodney a hard shove and sent him over the rail and tumbling down to the metal floor below.

"Jesus Christ," Cameron said, before leaping to his feet and rushing out the door. Elizabeth and Teyla were close behind. Elizabeth couldn't imagine why John had done that, or at least not any that made sense. Outright murder seemed out of the question. Even if Rodney hadn't been clearly cooperating, there were a dozen other ways he could have gone about it. Gate psychosis seemed extremely unlikely, as they'd both been through it far too many times for it just now to be setting in. Maybe they had been exposed to some alien substance or device.

Her thoughts stopped when Rodney jumped to his feet and shouted happily, "Did you see that?"

"I did!" John called back. "This is great!"

Elizabeth hurried down the stairs, while Cameron peeled off to head for John. "Rodney, are you all right?"

"I'm better than all right," Rodney said with a grin. "I'm invulnerable."

"Invulnerable," Elizabeth repeated.

"See this?" Rodney gestured at some sort of glowing amulet on his chest. "It's an Ancient personal shield. It seems like it'll stop anything."

"And you thought you would test it by jumping off a balcony?" Elizabeth asked incredulously.

"Of course not," Rodney said, looking offended by the suggestion. "We tested it with other impacts first. He even shot me."

"With a zat!" John added from above. "Ow! Fuck, Mitchell, what was that for?"

"That's for not using the brains God gave you," Cameron replied. "I'm starting to see why all your other COs hate your guts."

"Do you have any idea how the shield works or what its limits are?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well, no, but," Rodney started.

"And how can you even use it without the gene?" she continued. Seeing his shifty-eyed, guilty look, she knew what the answer was. "When I said I'd consider approving a human test of the gene therapy, I did not mean doing it on the chief science officer."

"Yes, well, it turned out fine, so who cares? I'm in-vulner-able."

Elizabeth sighed. "Take it off."

"Why?"

"Because there are guidelines for testing alien technology for good reason, and you don't get to skip over them because you feel like it," Elizabeth said. "At the very least, you should figure out where that thing is drawing power from before using it more."

"Mmm, good point." Rodney reached up and tried to pull the shield off. His fingers simply slid off a glowing green field. "Um. Okay, that's mildly concerning."

Elizabeth gave him a long, hard look, then said, "Go back to the lab you found it in, see if you can find any documentation and have Doctor Grodin assist you. I know -- you don't need his help. Just do it, Rodney, before it explodes or you starve to death."

"Actually, he'd die of thirst first," John put in.

"Yes, thank you very much for reminding me of that, Major," Rodney said with a scathing tone. "This is your fault, you know."

"My fault? You put it on before I was there."

"Gentlemen," Elizabeth said. She waited until Rodney slunk off and Cameron dragged John away before saying quietly to herself, "I'm surrounded by children." She turned back to Teyla, who was standing at the foot the stairs with a bemused expression, and said, "I'm sorry about the interruption. Where were we?"

"Discussing trade possibilities," Teyla said with a smile. "Perhaps I can find you a source of common sense."

"That," Elizabeth said with an answering smile, "would be wonderful."

The two of them spent some time going over what Atlantis might possibly have to offer in trade. Athos had traditionally dealt in fresh meat and leather, certain kinds of woven and wooden crafts, and most valuably a wine made from berries gathered from semi-feral groves and then allowed to ferment in casks for several years. Those casks were possibly still intact, as they were hidden in several caves around the region. At the moment Atlantis had less to offer, although Teyla suggested that if they could find a way to extract salt from the ocean it would certainly be worthwhile. Stainless steel tools could also be useful, ideally as a gift to smooth negotiations for trade deals involving less valuable items. Medical services would also be invaluable, and if nothing else many worlds would offer a part of their harvest in exchange for extra manpower. Whether other possibilities would arise and the full scope of Atlantis' own needs would only be clear once they started planting their own crops, either on Athos, the city's own parks and gardens, or on elsewhere on the planet.

The rest of Elizabeth's day was filled with more meetings with different department heads, all of whom were brimming with excitement and convinced that their latest discoveries were the most important in human history. She suspected the cacophony would only grow in the days ahead as people got settled in and began working in earnest. She did her best to give everyone some time with her, knowing that a little goodwill built up now would go a long way later. Most of the reports were useful in some way, ranging from the newest set of security procedures to confirmation that the soap produced by the shower dispensers was safe for human use, and some were merely interesting, like a few of the initial translations coming out of linguistics. There was also the small matter of the increasingly panicked messages coming from Rodney, who seemed convinced that he was going to die and take the rest of them with him, but that passed over shortly after the mess began serving dinner and his toy fell off. Elizabeth was not terribly surprised; the Ancients seemed to be big believers in safety protocols. Besides that brief incident, the day went remarkably smooth. Elizabeth hoped that trend would continue well into the future. She didn't expect every day to be perfect, but if there were no more like the first she would be thrilled.

That evening she was still going over reports when Cameron tapped on her office door frame and leaned in. "You busy?"

"Not especially, no," Elizabeth replied. "Do you need something?"

"Some of us are getting together in the officer's lounge to watch something," he said. "I figured I'd invite you, since you could probably use a break."

Elizabeth supposed that she really should get away from her desk. The last thing she needed was to get into the habit of doing nothing but work all day, at least if she wanted to retain a shred of her sanity. "What are you watching?"

"No idea," he replied. "It's Sheppard's turn to choose. I don't think it could be too bad, though."

"In that case, I'll join you." Elizabeth shut her tablet down and got up to walk with him toward the newly discovered transporter. "By the way, have you made any progress on getting recon teams selected?"

"We're more or less done," Cameron said. "We just need to hear back from the scientists."

"I'm sure you'll get plenty of volunteers." She smiled at him. "I don't doubt there are plenty of people who'll think that living in an alien city isn't exciting enough for them."

"Ain't that the truth," he replied with a smile of his own.

They reached the officer's lounge, which was a decent-sized room near the military's residential block. There were a number of such lounges scattered around the living areas of the control tower. The largest ones had been designated as public spaces, but it hadn't taken long for various groups to start claiming the smaller ones. Elizabeth was doing her best to encourage mingling between all of the different departments, especially between the military and civilian halves of the expedition, but it appeared that a certain degree of cliquish behavior was inevitable. The marines in particular seemed horrified by the idea that the officers might intrude upon their own recreational spaces and the enlisted leadership had politely but firmly told her that they were perfectly fine with the officers having their own facility. The attitude puzzled Elizabeth, but Cameron had convinced her it would be better for everyone if any intermixing was left to develop on its own terms.

The lounge had a large Ancient screen on one wall, which now had someone's laptop hooked up via a port beneath it. There were several couches, also of Ancient origin, facing it. Elizabeth had to admit that whatever else the Ancients achieved, sometimes it was the little things like ever-lasting furniture that impressed her the most. The expedition's officers were already present, except for Miller, who was on watch in the control room. Teyla was there as well, seated on the same couch as John and Evan.

"Good evening, Teyla," Elizabeth said as she and Cameron took the next couch over.

"Elizabeth," Teyla said with a nod. "John was kind enough to invite me to this gathering."

"It's the least I could do," John said. "Ford, hit play."

"Yes, sir." Ford scrambled forward and hit the laptop's spacebar. A moment later, the screen shifted from a seemingly random flow of Ancient words within a shifting blue-green fog to... football announcers?

"Oh, Christ," Cameron groaned. "You have got to be kidding me. The file server has copies of every movie, TV show, and play ever created, and we're watching this?"

"I told Teyla I'd show her what football is, and since we don't have anywhere to play a game yet this will have to do," John said. "I don't know why you're complaining. It's only the greatest football game ever."

"So you claim." To Elizabeth, Cameron added, "I think we had to watch this fifty times in Afghanistan."

"Twice," John retorted.

"I've always wondered why it's called football when you don't use your feet," Captain Sahine said.

"I've always wondered why people ask that question."

"I'm simply saying that if you are going to introduce the people of this galaxy to something called football, you should introduce them to actual football, not this."

"This is not actually football?" Teyla asked.

"No," Sahine said, at the same time John said, "It is."

"The Americans have a game called football, which is similar to what everyone else calls rugby, only with more padding," Sahine explained. "The rest of the planet plays real football, which is a superior game in all respects. We're organizing teams for when we find a large enough space to play."

"We have soccer balls?" Cameron asked.

"Equipment, Athletic, Recreation for the use of," Evan said.

"Whatever," John said. "Real men don't play soccer. Back me up, Ford."

"Actually, sir, I played it in high school."

"What? Oh, that's it. You're off my team."

"You're more than welcome to join mine, Lieutenant," Sahine said.

Quietly, Cameron said to Elizabeth, "Ah, the joys of international cooperation."

"At least we won't be able to watch the World Cup," Elizabeth replied. "I was negotiating a multilateral treaty during one; we got absolutely nothing done, and I think war almost broke out between South Korea and Denmark."

Fortunately everyone seemed content to stick to good-natured ribbing, not that she would have expected anything else from an elite group of professionals. Then again, she wouldn't have expected elite professionals to toss each other off balconies, and yet there they had been.

After the game was over, Elizabeth retreated to her quarters. She wasn't so tired that she really needed to sleep, but she still wasn't adapted to the slight longer days that the Atlantean planet had and if she didn't make an effort to get more in sync she knew from experience that she would end up jet lagged. That didn't stop her from sitting in bed for an hour, going over botany's preliminary reports on the soil samples they had taken from the large, half-dead park on the west pier, but she figured it was the thought that counted.

Some time later, Elizabeth was awakened by a screech from her radio. She fumbled around her nightstand until she managed to grab it, turn off the alarm setting, and get the headset on.

"This is Weir," she said.

"Lieutenant Ford here, ma'am," came a reply. "We need you in the control room. There may be a problem."

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I'll be right there."

When Elizabeth arrived, there were already several other people there. Lieutenant Ford and Chuck were part of the night watch, but Peter and Cameron were there as well. The colonel was wearing a pair of sweatpants, a loose t-shirt, and incongruously a holster strapped to his thigh. A few seconds later, John and Evan stumbled in as well in similar attire.

"What's going on?" Elizabeth asked.

Ford drew himself up a little and put his hands behind his back. "About thirty minutes ago, we started to notice some power fluctuations in the western side of the city. When it didn't stop, we called Doctor Grodin. Then when we noticed that the fluctuations seemed to be moving in toward the city core, I decided we needed to wake you up."

"I see. Peter, can you show me where it is?"

"One moment." The screen at the back of the control room lit up and Peter walked over to it. "It appears to have started somewhere in this area, but now it's heading inward. If I'm right, it may be following one of the main power conduits toward this distribution node here."

"I remember hearing something about internal sensors," Cameron said. "Can you show us that?"

"Technically, yes. Sergeant?" After a moment, a number of dots appeared on the screen, each with a small label. It was difficult to tell them apart, because they were all clustered in one area. "As you can see, though, the life-sign sensors show nothing there."

"Do we have any other sensors?" Elizabeth asked.

"We think so. That's what Sergeant Campbell and I have been trying to bring up."

Quietly, Cameron said, "Lorne, wake our guys up and get them into alert positions. A drill will do them some good even if it's nothing."

"Yes, sir," Evan said, turning back the way he'd come and already speaking into his radio.

"Sergeant, when you get a chance, page Doctor McKay as well," Elizabeth said. "If he complains, tell him something is draining all our power. I'm sure that will get him moving."

"Ma'am."

"I think I've got something," Peter said. "There's... well, honestly, I have no idea what that is."

There was a small black _something_ creeping down one of halls on the screen. Peter made the image zoom in, but even at a closer level it was still just a blob spread across the width of the corridor and slowly sliding along.

"Whatever it is, it's eating energy and heading for a power node," Elizabeth said slowly. "We'll assume it's potentially dangerous until we have reason to believe otherwise. Colonel, please have someone take a closer look and try to cut it off before it arrives at the node."

"On it," Cameron said. "Sheppard, Ford, with me."

As they left for the armory, Elizabeth leaned against one of the consoles and stared at the displays. They had only been in the city three days now and already it was throwing mysteries at them. She would have liked to think that the Ancients would not have kept anything dangerous in their own homes, but ten thousand years was a long time and it was entirely possible that something once safely secured could have escaped. The question was what it could be. Given its age, she suspected it was nothing friendly.

* * *

If there was one thing Cam missed most about being a pilot, it was the distinct lack of 0330 wake-up calls. Oh, there were the occasional nighttime scrambles, sure, but for the most part if you were up at 0330 it was because you were scheduled to be up at 0330, as opposed to finding yourself fumbling your way into a tac vest while some strange part of your mind was still half-asleep and saying in your Momma's voice, "Cameron Everett Mitchell, why aren't you wearing clean underwear?"

Actually, under normal circumstances he'd say that he actually missed flying most of all, and if he'd been thinking straight he'd have beat McKay to the gene therapy so he could take a jumper up, but as he stood in the armory he was much more annoyed about the being awake thing.

"Okay, folks, listen up," Cam said to those assembled in his corner of the armory, while other marines streamed in and out the doors. "We have no idea what this thing is. It could be a squamous space monster; it could be a 'coon in the wiring. We're going to assume the worst. We'll split into teams of two and try to encircle it before it can reach its destination. I want a mix of weapons along. You are free to engage at your discretion, but use caution and wait for backup if at all possible."

A few minutes later Cam and Staff Sergeant Stackhouse were making their way down one of the corridors on the west side of the city core, heading out in the direction of the pier area. There were seven other two-person teams spread out across several levels around them, trying to cover an area almost half a mile wide and about a dozen stories thick as best they could. Under normal circumstances, it would have been a dubious proposition, but the sensor blob seemed to be heading in one direction with a single-minded determination, only occasionally changing course when forced to do so by the irregular, twisting nature of the corridors. Unless they got unlucky, it should run into one of the teams. Of course, that might be unlucky as well, but that was life for you.

"Colonel, it looks like it just descended a ramp to your level," Grodin said in Cam's ear. "It's now traveling down a corridor to the west. If you take the next left turn, I think you'll catch it as it passes."

"Copy that," Cam said, picking up the pace a little. Halfway down the hall John and Ford emerged from a different corridor. They quickly reached the spot Grodin had directed them to. Cam signaled for them to halt just before the intersection with the next hall, where they could watch whatever it was pass without being directly in its way.

Overhead the lights began to darken, until just a few dim emergency lights and their own flashlights remained on. Next there was an odd combination of sounds, just barely noticeable at first but growing louder. At the base was a strange raspy noise, like dry leaves rubbing against each other in the breeze. There was also a faint tinkling similar to distant wind chimes and an almost musical piping, both of which varied wildly in pitch and volume. Finally the blob-thing itself came into view as it passed the intersection. It was like nothing Cam had ever seen before. At first glance it seemed to be a cloud of thick black smoke, like that of a burning oil field, but beyond the appearance it acted nothing like actual smoke. It was too uniformly dense and didn't spill into the side corridor as it passed. It was constantly shifting shape along the edges, sending out probing extrusions that were misty and transparent one moment and then would contract into small, opaque tendrils the next, or vice versa. There were no obvious sensory organs, or indeed any differentiated parts at all. It moved along in an even glide at a sedate walking pace, and judging by the time it took to pass it was maybe twenty or thirty feet long.

"Okay, anyone recognize what the hell that was?" Cam whispered.

"I've never seen anything like it, sir," Ford replied.

"What about that thing on P3X-289?" Stackhouse asked. "The one that ate half of SG-14."

"Wasn't that more like a slimy tar thing?"

"Mmm. Yeah, I think you're right, sir."

"Don't look at me," John muttered. "The only alien life I've been exposed to recently have been penguins and Wraith, and that's not either one."

"I figured as much," Cam said. It didn't resemble anything in countless the mission reports he had read, both of SG-1 and other SG teams. There was always the chance that some team had run into something like this, of course, on one of those missions where the team never dialed back and just ended up listed as "MIA, presumed KIA". Cam clicked his radio and said, "Control, Mitchell. We have made contact. Moving to engage."

The four of them crept around the corner. The blob-thing paid them no more attention than it had while passing and continued to glide down the hall. Cam raised his M4, flipped off the safety, and fired a single shot.

Nothing happened.

Cam glanced to either side and saw that his companions looked about as put out as he was. A three-round burst had the exact same effect as the first shot, which was to say nothing at all. For all he knew, the bullets might have been flying straight through the cloud-like entity.

"Okay, so much for that," Cam said. "Sheppard, Ford, try yours."

Ford was carrying a basilisk gun, unsurprisingly - Cam had noted the young man had a distinct love of explosives or things that made other things catch of fire. John was carrying an M4 like Cam, but he also had a zat. The two of them raised their respective weapons and opened fire. The basilisk's beam was invisible to human eyes, but the zat released a series of sharp blue arcs of energy.

This time there was a result. The cloud froze in place for a moment, then let out a series of sharp noises that was like nothing Cam had ever heard. It was like a combination of piping and the song of some strange bird: "_Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!"_

It was nothing Cam understood, but the intonation of it was such that it sent a chill up his spine. Somehow it sounded really pissed, and that suspicion was confirmed when it abruptly reversed direction and came barreling toward them.

"Fuck, run!" Cam shouted, following a long tradition of SG team leaders.

They scrambled back the way they had come, with the entity close on their heels. They had a head start but it was closing the gap rapidly, gliding along sedately at a speed faster than they could sprint and still piping out _"Tekeli-li!"_ at regular intervals. Suddenly John waved them down a short, dead-end hall. There was nothing there except a single door at the end, but when they were halfway down it the door opened up to reveal a circular transporter room. Cam got there first and turned to at least try and provide covering fire for everyone else, but then Ford arrived, grabbed him, and pulled him inside. John and Stackhouse dove inside just inches ahead of the cloud. Cam hit a destination at random and the doors started sliding shut.

Then they stopped when the power died, leaving a crack an inch wide.

Cam's breath caught as the entity poured into the transporter. A cloud of mist bulged outwards and then suddenly condensed into a long, thin tendril that shot straight at his face. It froze a fraction of an inch from the bridge of his nose, so close that his eyes crossed trying to look at it. A second later there was a set of chiming noises and the cloud withdrew. The power came back on and outside Cam could see the cloud was now proceeding away at a walking pace. It had ceased to cry out and returned to its previous, apparently random noises.

Beside him, Ford let out a long sigh and said, "That was close."

"Yeah," Cam said.

"Colonel?" Stackhouse said, an odd quiver in his voice. Cam looked down and saw the sergeant's face was pale and damp. "I can't feel my foot, sir."

Cam's eyes widened as he saw that one of Stackhouse's outstretched legs simply ended just past the ankle, as if the foot had been removed boot and all with impossible precision.

"Infirmary," Cam snapped to Ford. As the lieutenant hit the controls and called for medics, Cam dropped to his knees and started pulling off his belt. John scrambled to examine Stackhouse's wound as well.

"God, look at this," John said to Cam. The point where the sergeant's leg ended was incredibly smooth, like the sharpest razor in the universe had cut straight through leather, skin, muscle, and bone. Blood was spurting from the severed arteries. "Staff Sergeant, I need you to hold still. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, sir," Stackhouse said quietly. "How... how bad is it?"

"Not bad at all," John said, lifting his head a little so he could smile at Stackhouse even as he cinched the belt down around his leg. "You're going to be just fine."

"Mitchell to all search parties," Cam said into his radio. "Do not engage hostile. Repeat, do not engage. Our weapons are ineffective." To John, he whispered, "Are you okay?"

John hadn't said anything, but he would be quiet if he'd taken a shot in a gut, and Stackhouse didn't seem to be in any pain so John might not even realize if he was hurt.

"It ate my boot," John whispered back, "but otherwise I'm fine."

Cam glanced past John's shoulder and saw that most of John's foot was exposed, his boot and sock stripped cleanly away. Before he could say anything more, a medical team arrived. They whisked Stackhouse away in short order. Cam took a few steps to follow, then stopped himself. He had other things he had to worry about first. He and his remaining companions returned to the control room to find out what was going on back on the pier. Only minutes later, McKay dragged them plus Elizabeth, Teyla, and several of his scientists out to a lab on the west pier.

"We looked through the sensor records and traced the original power drains to here," McKay said, waving around the room. There were several typical Ancient console and screen combos around the room, but the most noticeable feature was a triangular pedestal in the center. It was just over waist high, about five feet on a side, and there were three dinner-plate-sized circular depressions in it. Two had flat lids that glowed a soft blue-white, while the other was open to a dark, smooth-walled cylindrical compartment. "It seems likely that the entity you encountered was released from here. We're not sure how or why. We've been messing with the power grid to try to turn off non-essential systems, which could have disrupted something, and there were several groups out this way at various times over the day."

"Do we know what it is?" Elizabeth asked.

"A shoggot'im," Doctor Markov replied, looking up from the console she was studying.

"Yes, exactly," McKay said, glaring at her for interrupting. "It's definitely a servitor unit of some kind. We know based on the records of the Pabodie and US Army Antarctic expeditions that the Ancients used advanced biological or nanotechological servants. Some were the size of train engines and were described as being similar to oily sludge, while others were more mist-like. We think that's what you encountered."

"We have long speculated that the mist form could be some sort of utility fog. That is to say it is made out of billions of microscopic machines, which link together in different patterns to perform tasks," Markov added. "That is definitely reinforced by what you saw. Unfortunately, we do not know much more, due to the unfortunate destruction of the first Antarctic site."

"Back up," John said. "First site?"

"The Ancient outpost is the only operational Ancient facility ever discovered on Earth," Elizabeth explained. "However, in 1928 a small Ancient town was found mostly intact, although largely stripped of any technology. We think it had some sort of partially-functional cloaking technology, because it wasn't located again until 1963. I remember reading the reports when negotiating for access to the outpost." She closed her eyes as she thought back. "As I recall, the Army expedition found a shoggoth there, one of the larger type. It wiped out half of an infantry battalion before it was destroyed."

"How'd they stop it?" Cam asked.

"Nuclear artillery," Markov said dryly. "Which destroyed the entire site, I might add. There was a Soviet observer along as per the terms of the Helsinki Accords and the Antarctic Treaty System. The language of his report is very... colorful."

"That's not so helpful," John said, equally dry.

"It seems to be protected against quantum tunneling affects, which is why our basilisks aren't working," McKay went on. "It also seems to eat zat fire, and bullets can't do enough damage to the structure to really hurt it. Now, we know explosions can damage replicators and the shoggoth aren't that different, but I can't guarantee that even one of the claymores would do enough harm to kill it. That's assuming it doesn't eat the explosives first. Also, we learned from General O'Neill's most recent Asgard adventure that the Ancients did have anti-nanite weapons, but we have no idea how they work so unless we find one sitting around, we're out of luck there."

Cam shook his head. Sometimes it really didn't pay to ask questions. "What's it doing right now?"

"Grodin's playing keep-away," McKay said. "He's selectively turning off power at different points around the city and leading it in circles. I don't know how long that'll work. It might be stupid, but sooner or later it's bound to notice the generators in the central tower and come to them instead of the power distribution nodes."

"Do we know why it's trying to drain power?" Elizabeth asked. "That doesn't seem very useful in a servant."

"Maybe it's trying recharge, or maybe it's just malfunctioning after ten thousand years of inactivity." McKay shrugged. "Either way, it doesn't seem like a good thing to me. If nothing else, once it's done draining power we'll still have an out-of-control, person-eating monstrosity on our hands."

"If it is low on energy, that could be a way to deal with it," Cam said. "We can live for a while with no power. We just shut the generators down and see what happens."

"Mmmm, how about not," McKay said with a roll of his eyes. "Two problems. First, if we do that, it might decide that the two-hundred-odd heat sources in the city would make a decent snack. Second, I'm not sure we can shut the power down completely. There's an emergency power system to run life support and other critical utilities. We've discovered that it's fed by solar energy. The entire surface of the city and its buildings are part of one big solar cell. Once the sun comes up, the shoggoth could tap directly into it."

Elizabeth nodded. "Then we need to find some way of getting rid of it before then. Teyla, have you ever heard of entities like this or ways to kill them?"

Teyla frowned and thought for a few seconds, then shook her head. "Not exactly like this, no, but there have stories of similar creatures. Killing them is always risky and difficult. It is best to find some way to entrap the creature first, preferably where you can then cleanse it with fire. Failing that, another alternative is to lure it away, perhaps through the stargate."

"The stargate," Cam said, snapping his fingers. "We get the shoggoth in front of the gate, dial it, and let the kawoosh deal with it."

McKay nodded slowly. "That might work, if we can get it in the right position. We could also rig one of the robots with our smallest generator. If the gate backwash doesn't kill it, we could set it through as a lure."

"What if it doesn't go through the gate?" Elizabeth asked.

"Then we lure it somewhere else," John suggested. "There's no reason it can't go over water, right? So we take a jumper, drag a generator behind as bait, and once it's a safe distance from the city we nuke it."

"That sounds like a viable Plan C," Elizabeth said. "All right, make it happen. Doctor Markov, please continue investigating this lab. See if you can find a way to exert control over it, in case we need a Plan D."

It didn't take too long to get things set up. They rigged up the smallest, most expendable naquadah generator they had, which was to say the one McKay only _almost_ had a heart attack at the thought of losing, and attached it to the smallest, most expendable remote-control vehicle they had, one of their two bomb-disposal robots. The robot was positioned just to the side of the gate's splash zone, where it could easily be sent through to what the database said was a dead desert planet. A second generator was being placed in a jury-rigged flotation device up in the jumper bay, in case they needed to drop it in the ocean as bait. More time consuming than either of those tasks was getting the rest of the expedition into a safe location. While they could be reasonably sure the shoggoth would take the most direct route to the gate room, no one wanted to take the chance that it would detour though the living quarters.

Finally they were ready to start. Most of the control room staff was evacuated to safety, leaving just Cam, John, Elizabeth, McKay, and Grodin. Cam and Elizabeth were, strictly speaking, unnecessary given that they had nothing practical to contribute, but neither of them would have retreated even if someone had suggested it.

"Okay, shutting main generators now," McKay said, entering a command into his laptop. All around them, the equipment shut down, leaving just a few emergency lights to dimly illuminate the room. He reached for a radio remote control and flipped a switch on it. "Bait generator is now online. Now we just wait and see what happens."

After a couple of extraordinarily long minutes, the scanner John was holding bleeped. "I think we've got something," he said.

"Something?" McKay said. "Is it the shoggoth or is it -- actually, just give me that." He tried to snatch the scanner but John jerked it away.

"It's showing the same blobby thing as the main sensors," John said. "It just came out of the southeast stairwell on the level below us, and should be entering the gate room through that door in about a minute."

Sure enough the shoggoth glided into the gate room a short time later. In the wide open space, it had more room to expand than it had in the corridor earlier. It was maybe seven or eight feet deep and reached from the gate all the way to the stairs and was a similar distance wide. From above, it looked no different than it had from the same, still a dense cloud with a gentle expanding and contracting surface. The robot and its generator were lost from sight entirely.

"Peter," Elizabeth said quietly. Grodin entered the address and the gate began dialing. The kawoosh wouldn't encompass the entire shoggoth but it would get most of it, and McKay was positive that destroying the majority of its mass would leave it crippled and vulnerable to more conventional means of attack.

When the sixth chevron locked in, the shoggoth started to rapidly change shape, its middle contracting out to the sides until it was shaped like an arch in front of the gate. When the gate engaged, the backwash spilled harmlessly through empty air. As if that wasn't bad enough, when the puddle settled down Cam's eyes were drawn to the robot. In the second before the shoggoth collapsed down on it again, he could clearly see that some of the plastic and rubber parts that held the robot's tread gears on were missing.

"McKay," Cam said, at the same time McKay said, "Sending the robot through. And... okay, that's odd."

"It ate parts of the damn thing!" Cam explained.

"Rodney, shut down the reactor," Elizabeth ordered immediately. McKay hit one of the switches on his control unit.

"Done." He snapped his fingers at John, who handed over the scanner. "Damn it! It's not shutting down. Either it's jamming the signal or it's screwed up the controls."

"Find some way around it."

"I'm trying!" McKay said.

After a few seconds, John sidled over to Cam and leaned in to speak quietly in his ear. "Cam, when it trapped us earlier, it hurt Stackhouse --"

"But it left you alone," Cam finished for him. He knew what John was going to suggest. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then said, "Go."

Except someone else went running past them, and it took Cam a second open his eyes and turn, and another to realize that, Jesus Christ, that definitely was McKay, and by that point McKay was already at the top of the stairs.

"McKay!" John shouted, running that way. He was too late; by the time he got there McKay was already walking down into the cloud. He didn't tumble down like Cam would have expected if he'd just had his legs eaten, though, and as his head disappeared it was surrounded by a green halo.

For a minute, all of them stared down into the seething black mass. Without warning it began to shrink and the puddle rippled as the shoggoth passed through it, until finally McKay became visible standing in front of the gate. The last few tendrils passed through and with a ripping, sucking sound the wormhole disengaged.

"Rodney?" Elizabeth called. "Rodney, are you all right?"

"Did I... did I just...?" McKay made a vague waving motion to the gate.

"I think you did," John said, coming up behind him.

"Oh. That's good." With that, McKay slumped into a faint and would have hit the floor if John hadn't caught him.

Later it turned that McKay was fine, with nothing wrong with him beyond a little exhaustion and shock from what he had just done. He was on his feet in less than an hour, bitching and moaning about the horrible job Grodin and Zelenka was doing at getting the power grid turned back on. Cam was busy getting everyone back where they belong and making sure there was nothing else running around the city that might have been let loose at the same time as the shoggoth and left unnoticed while they dealt with it. Nothing turned up, though.

The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon when Cam got around to visiting the infirmary. He found Carolyn there in the temporary office and anteroom they had set up near the entrance. Half of the medical equipment was still waiting to be moved in while they figured out what the Ancient equipment was.

"Hey, Carolyn," Cam said.

She looked up from her computer and smiled. "Cameron. How are you?"

"Tired, but I'm fine. You?"

"More or less the same."

"What about Stackhouse?"

Carolyn leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Better than you'd expect. The original wound was remarkably clean. I've never seen anything like it. We probably caused more tissue damage to the stump while we cleaned it up than whatever caused the injury. Obviously, we're going to have to fit him with a prosthetic, but I think it should go relatively smoothly."

"I'm sure it will," Cam said with a small smile. "I hear the doctor's pretty good at helping people get over that sort of thing."

Carolyn shook her head but grinned a little none the less. "I can't take credit for your recovery, Cameron. I've told you that before."

"And I've told you that's bullshit. I owe you and Doctor Clark a lot." Cam glanced down the room to where the recovery ward was. "Is he awake?"

"At the moment. He needs to get some rest, though, so keep it short and take Major Sheppard with you when you leave."

"Sure thing, doc." Cam ambled over to the ward. He found John and Sergeant Markham sitting to either side of Stackhouse's bed. The two marines had pained expressions that probably had little to do with missing feet.

"If you think about it, it really could be worse," John was saying. "At least we've got a couple prostheses. Otherwise you could have ended up with a peg leg. Although maybe that wouldn't be too bad, if you think pirates are cool."

"Sheppard, what do you think you're doing?"

John looked over and grinned. "I'm just checking on our injured man and encouraging him to keep a bright outlook."

"I've been on the receiving end of your pep talks. The only thing they encouraged me to do was get out of bed before I had to hear more of them." To Stackhouse, Cam said, "How're you feeling, Staff?"

"I could be better, sir," Stackhouse said a little faintly. "Doctor Lam says I should be up pretty soon, though."

"I wouldn't expect anything else. You want me to get rid of this guy?"

"I'd appreciate that, sir."

"I know when I'm not wanted," John said, standing up. "I'll catch you later, Staff Sergeant."

Stackhouse smiled a little. Cam half suspected that he saw right through John's act. "I look forward to it, sir."

John and Cam left the infirmary. Almost as soon as they were out the door John's cheerful smile dropped away. He glanced over his shoulder and muttered, "Poor bastard."

"He's a strong guy," Cam said. "He'll be fine."

"Maybe, but it doesn't change that I fucked up somewhere and he lost a foot because of it."

"Hey, no, uh-uh," Cam said. He stopped and pulled John aside into an alcove off the main corridor. "If anyone fucked up, it wasn't you, it was me. Maybe your other COs let you get away with blaming yourself for every single thing that went wrong, but I'm not letting you play that game."

John gave him a look that said he thought Cam was full of shit.

"It could have been you in there," John said, voice quiet but intense. "Or it could have been Ford, or the shoggoth could have taken someone's head off instead of Stacks' foot. I didn't even think about trying to turn it off or anything."

"You're assuming that would have even worked on a malfunctioning and rampaging machine," Cam pointed out. "You can't blame yourself for not trying to control it." John started to open his mouth and Cam held up his hand. "Tell you what. When we go over our after-action reports, if you can find something that you can truthfully say you did wrong, I'll be more than happy to rake you over the coals. Until them, I'm ordering you not to worry about it."

John raised his eyebrows and looked at him incredulously. "You can't order me not to worry about it."

"I think I just did."

They stared at each other for a minute, until a hint of a smile appeared on John's face. "You are the worst CO I've ever had, Mitchell. Seriously."

"If you're complaining, then obviously I'm doing my job. Now, do you want to snag some breakfast? We're probably going to spend the morning deconstructing this little fiasco and I'm sure as hell not doing it on an empty stomach."

"Sure, why not."

Cam nodded. "We can go and get your boyfriend to join us."

"What?" John squawked. "We're not -- he's not -- fuck you, Mitchell."

Cam grinned to himself. An indignant John was, in his experience, a John who didn't have much time for beating himself up. Truth be told, Cam wasn't feeling so great himself, but he was the one in charge. He was allowed to feel irrationally guilty. He just hoped that they wouldn't have too many more days like the last few. Two casualties in three days wasn't a good start. The SGC's early history wasn't too different, though, and it had settled down a little once they got into the swing of things. The same would probably happen with the expedition.

God help them all if it didn't.

* * *

Four days after the hectic, near-disastrous Departure Day, a group of expedition personnel and Athosians finally returned to Athos to survey the damage and salvage what they could. Everything within a mile of the gate was a complete loss, with nothing left but scorched and pitted earth; even beyond the area that had been bombarded the ensuing wildfires had spread far and left much of the forest black and twisted. According the scientists it had likely been done just after the evacuation. It was all too possible that if they had waited longer, they would still have been on the planet when the attack came. Returning and rebuilding was clearly going to take time, even if the Athosians moved on to one of their other regular camp sites.

There were two teams currently on the planet, plus an extra squad of marines to watch over the gate. They and others had been at work for almost six hours, loading up the puddle jumpers with supplies from the caches the Athosians kept for emergencies and sending them back to the gate to be sent through to Atlantis. There was a little bit of everything in there - clothes, bedding, tools, even a couple of tents, although those were left behind for the moment in the interests of saving time. It would all be a welcome addition to what they possessed, because most of the Athosians had escaped with only what they could carry and some with even less. An extra pair of pants wouldn't replace lost heirlooms, but there were times when a pair of pants was exactly what you needed.

Aiden's team had just finished their lunch break and was beginning to haul things to the jumper again. _His_ team – well, okay, Major Sheppard's team, but his none the less. Aiden had been dreaming of joining an SG team ever since he had first joined the program but had spent a year cycling through the Alpha site and ancillary support units before volunteering for the Atlantis mission. He'd never really considered the possibility of ending up on a front-line first contact team anytime soon, thinking it was more likely he'd end up with one of the combat teams like SG-3 or a follow-up team, but now here he was. Granted, all four of the Atlantis recon teams were essentially first contact, and with four lieutenants it wasn't exactly as if Aiden could have missed out on being on one, but still, the point was that Major Sheppard had selected him. Aiden liked the major, not that there was anything wrong with the rest of the senior officers. The remainder of the team was more of a mixed bag. On the one hand, Teyla seemed pretty cool, so smooth and competent that Aiden felt like he was a bumbling kid every time he opened his mouth around her. On the other hand, McKay... well, McKay was McKay. Aiden had a suspicion that he'd either end up saving their lives a lot or get them killed. Possibly both.

"You mind if I ask you a question, ma'am?" Aiden said to Teyla as they passed through the cavern's first chamber, a wide, perfectly circular space with elaborate hypergeometries inscribed into the wall, ceiling, and floor. McKay was there, but he barely spared them a glance before going to back to staring at the inscriptions and his tablet computer.

"Of course not, Aiden," Teyla replied. "Ask whatever you wish."

"Your people are basically nomadic, right? You move around a lot, not staying in one place."

Teyla nodded. "That is more or less accurate. We return at set times to the trade camp near the gate, but otherwise we move from year to year."

"So how can you have all this?" Aiden gestured around the tunnels. They extended hundreds of yards into a rocky outcropping and probably a similar distance downward, although the Athosians made use of only the upper-most chambers under normal circumstances. There was a lot in those chambers, though. Besides the supplies, there were row after row of kegs, most the size of Aiden's chest. More impressive were some of the huge wine vats, which were easily the size of the puddle jumper.

"I believe I understand your reasoning," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "You wonder how people who appear to be nothing more than hunters and gatherers could create such a place and make use of it?"

Aiden blushed and ducked his head. He hadn't quite meant it like that, but he suddenly realized how his words could be interpreted. "Sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I hope I didn't offend you."

"You have not," Teyla said. When Aiden looked up there was a soft smile on her lips. "I am well aware that our lives are much simpler than those of people on many worlds. We owe much to our ancestors, in truth. They constructed all of the caverns we use almost twelve generations ago, and our entire way of life revolves around preparations and plans made long ago."

"Really?"

"Yes. In those times, three great cullings ago, Athos had a mighty civilization. However, in the aftermath of the Sixty-Eighth Culling, most of our cities lay in ruins. The Wraith had been especially savage, and our ancestors realized that when the Wraith came once again they might destroy us entirely. So only the city nearest the gate was rebuilt, much smaller than before, and here in the surrounding countryside they began cultivating plants that could sustain us if we had to abandon the city. During the Sixty-Ninth culling, the Wraith did destroy the city. Many of us fled to other worlds, while some remained as planned." Teyla stopped as they passed one of the rooms they had cleared earlier, which contained empty racks that until recently had held dozens of wooden kegs. "You remember the cider we retrieved from here?"

"It'd be hard to forget, ma'am," Aiden said with a grin. At Teyla's urging, Major Sheppard had allowed them all to sample some of it over lunch. It had been sort of like apple cider, but with a lot more kick.

"It is made with the talet fruit, which matures only once a year, in the late fall," Teyla said. "After harvest, the cider is left to mature over the winter and sometimes spring. Elti berries, on the other hand, produce several crops a year and the wine ferments quickly. We have several orchards with both. Siviani trees, on the other hand, produce fruit only in the spring of every third year, and the best wines from it takes six years to be ready. The same is true of Setiani trees, but they produce one year after the Siviani. And so it goes with all our other crops."

"I get it," Aiden said. "They're all in different locations, right? So you just move from one to the other as the seasons and years change."

"Precisely. Some of fruit we eat ourselves, but most we brew into drinks for trade. They are highly desired and are one reason Athosian traders are welcomed with open arms on many worlds."

"That's some real impressive planning," Aiden said. He'd never heard of anyone on Earth pulling something like that off. Crop rotation, sure, but an elaborate set of interlocking fruiting times in several species of plant, that worked with only minimal attention for hundreds of years? Hell, no.

"I agree. It is said they changed the very nature of the plants, to insure that the cycles would be perfect."

"Genetic manipulation?"

"Perhaps. I am not familiar with the term." Teyla shrugged. "In any case, such skill has been taken from us. We only recall the stories so well because of the chronicles we keep. Our lorekeepers record what they can in them and have off-world scribes make copies for each cache, so that we might remember our history and honor the memories of those who came before us."

Aiden shook his head. It was hard to believe how much devastation the Wraith had caused and how that had shaped the Athosian society. The idea of genetically engineering plants just so that a few hundred survivors might remain healthy and have good trade prospects was completely alien to him. He was no stranger to the idea of entire societies being bombed out of existence; like all personnel at Stargate Command, he had seen recordings of destroyed worlds as part of his introductory briefing. The impersonal and repeating nature of the attacks here was different from anything the Goa'uld had done. Seventy-plus cullings, or more if they had lost count at some point, spread across ten thousand years... it was inhuman, in every sense of the word.

His thoughts were interrupted by a crackle from his radio, followed by the voice of Gunnery Sergeant Bates.

"All units, this is gate overwatch," Bates said. "We have an unscheduled offworld activation."

Aiden and Teyla looked at each other in concern. Atlantis was doing check-ins at twenty minute intervals. Either something had happened to cause them to dial in earlier, or someone was gating to Athos from another planet entirely. It was possible that it was a trade partner; it was also possible it was something more hostile.

The latter was confirmed a moment later. "We have enemy contact. Two bandits, heading north by north-west. Probable destination: Site Charlie."

Which meant they were headed straight for Aiden's team.

The smart thing to do would have been to stay right where they were, with plenty of rock to shield them from sensors or weapons fire, but together they sprinted toward the exit, passing McKay on the way.

"Hey, where are you going?" McKay squawked. "It's not safe out - oh, damn it!"

Much to Aiden's surprise, he started following them. It didn't matter anyway; they reached the tunnel mouth to find that the jumper wasn't in the clearing below like it was supposed to be. There was no sign of the major, either. A buzzing, almost insect-like screech filled the air and in the distance two darts could be seen approaching. As they drew closer Aiden tensed, ready to grab McKay and run back inside, but before the aircraft got any closer the jumper shimmered into existence behind them. An instant later the darts exploded, showering burning debris all over the forest floor.

"Ford, where are you?" Sheppard asked over the radio as the jumper set down and its hatch hissed open."

"We're at the surface, sir."

"Good. Get in, we're leaving. Lorne, you hear that?"

"Yeah, we'll be ready to go in a minute," Lorne replied.

As they entered the jumper, Teyla called out, "Major Sheppard, wait. We cannot go yet."

Major Sheppard twisted around in his chair. "Why not?"

"There is so much left that we have not yet recovered all that we can. If the Wraith continue to return to this world, we may not have another chance. Surely there is some way we can remain longer."

"Teyla, I've seen how much stuff is still down there," Sheppard said skeptically. "Just emptying out this site will take the rest of the day, let alone all of the other ones. If the Wraith show up in force, or decide to just shove a nuke through the gate, we're fucked."

"My people could lose almost everything we have left," Teyla said. "The more we take with us, the more we will have to trade and provide for ourselves until we can rebuild."

"Teyla..."

"At least give us time to load a copy of our chronicles, so that we will have our history if nothing else."

Sheppard looked at here for a minute, expression tense with conflicting emotions, then he turned and punched Atlantis' address into the DHD. When a crystal lit up to confirm the wormhole was engaged, he said into his radio, "Lorne, change of plans. Report to my location first. We're not leaving just yet."

"Sheppard? What's up?"

"We're going to take the time to shove as much stuff into our jumpers as we can."

Lorne made an exasperated noise. "This is a bad idea, Sheppard."

Sheppard winced. "Yeah, I know, but I figure we're safe enough for the moment. Bates, leave your position and head down to the gate. I want you to stick something in it to keep it engaged. We're going to try to get this done as quick as we can, but if we're not done in thirty-three minutes we'll redial the gate before it hits the time limit. I don't think it'll take longer than that."

"Sir, I agree with Major Lorne," Bates said. "This is pretty risky, especially for some booze and other random shit."

"The risk is minimal. Just do what I said."

"Aye, sir."

Sheppard turned to the rest of the team. "Let's get moving. Teyla, we'll take whatever can fit in two jumpers. That's it for now."

"Thank you, Major. This means a great deal."

"Don't sweat it. Come on, people, let's move. Yes, that means you too, Rodney."

Teyla led them back into the tunnels and down to a level they hadn't visited before. There was a room there full of shelves with sealed wooden boxes, which Teyla said contained the books holding her people's history. They were about the right size and shape to hold something maybe twice as thick as a big calculus or chemistry textbook and a fair bit wider and taller, which Aiden supposed would be about the right size for the kind of old leather-bound volumes he imagined the Athosians might use. They were able to carry about couple in arm and a couple more in their packs on each trip up. It would have gone faster if they could have left the boxes behind, but given how old some of the books probably were, they were better safe than sorry when moving them. It'd be pretty damned stupid to try to rescue to books and destroy them in the process, after all.

Lorne's team showed up a few minutes later. The major had one of those put-upon expressions he seemed to get a lot, especially around Major Sheppard. If he wanted to argue about the decision to delay their departure he refrained from doing so. With eight people it didn't take too long to move the hundreds of boxes up to the jumpers, after which they grabbed a last few containers of seeds and whatever other useful things they could cram into the jumpers. By the time they were done, there was barely room to get through to the cockpits. Lorne's jumper was easily worse than Sheppard's, thanks to the plants that they had been gathering before the appearance of the Wraith. At least nothing in Sheppard's jumper was prickly, except McKay.

They reached the gate just before the cut-off point, having sent Bates and his men through ahead. Soon they were landing in the jumper bay, with a shield safely between them and any Wraith. Colonel Mitchell was waiting for them once they were cleared through the medical checks.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Oh, you know, we did some heavy lifting, had lunch, shot down a couple of Wraith darts," Sheppard said. "The usual."

"And then you stuck around an extra thirty-odd minutes. Didn't I tell you to bug out if you made contact with the enemy?"

"We had the gate locked down. It was safe to bring one last load."

"Right. Lorne, remind me to put you in charge next time."

"Yes, sir."

"Major Sheppard was simply doing as I requested," Teyla put in. "I am grateful that he did so, and I would not wish for him to get in trouble because of me."

Sheppard smiled at her. "I'm not in trouble. Mitchell talks tough sometimes, but he's a big softy at heart."

"Are you done undermining my command in front of everyone?" Mitchell said. "Let's get this stuff moved and then we'll debrief."

They unloaded quickly, thanks to the help of some of Teyla's people and a group of marines. It took longer to go over the mission's events. It wasn't so much because a lot had happened - six hours of playing moving company versus about a minute where the Wraith had been present - but because they tried to figure out what had gone wrong. They did their best to account for every action they had taken the entire day. The problem was that there seemed to be nothing that could account for the Wraith showing up, especially nothing that lined up with the previous attack on Athos. Bates' squad had been concealed in a site overlooking the gate and more or less laid there the entire time. Lorne's team had been taking samples from the Athosian plants and gathering supplies from one of the other caches. Sheppard's team had been in and out of different tunnels and caverns. None of them had done anything notable: nothing that would explain why it had taken six hours for the Wraith to show, and nothing that the Athosians hadn't been doing a hundred times every day before the Wraith attack. It didn't make any sense, and they were all left frustrated at the end.

"I hear you guys had some fun today," Satterfield said over dinner.

"Yeah, lots of fun," Cadman replied. "Did you know that kato berry bushes have thorns when they're out of season? They do. Five-inch thorns, in fact."

"We had to skip the first cache we tried because there was a cougar living inside," Aiden added with a smile. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone scream like McKay did."

"I meant the Wraith," Satterfield said. "What happened?"

Aiden shrugged. "There's nothing to say. They showed up, and a minute later Major Sheppard blew 'em out of the sky. Then we left. End of story."

"Huh." Satterfield shook her head. "Let me tell you, back in my day, we didn't have jumpers or alien weapons. If we were lucky we had a Stinger or two to fire off at gliders, but if an al'kesh showed up it was time to curl up and kiss your ass goodbye."

Cadman laughed. "In your day? I didn't realize my grandmother had swapped bodies with you."

"I'm just saying, we didn't get to play around with spaceships, even tiny ones." Before Aiden could point out the obvious, she added, "And no, SG-1 doesn't count. They always broke their toys anyways."

"God, could you imagine what McKay would do to us if we trashed one of the jumpers?" Miller asked. "He'd skin us alive." He looked at Aiden. "Don't take this as an insult to your teammate or anything, but I'm glad I don't have to work with him."

"Come on, he's not that bad," Cadman said. When they all looked at her skeptically, she went on, "No, really. He can't be as bad as he seems. There's no way he would have passed through all the psych and social screening if he was."

"He's mission essential personnel, he'd have to be a homicidal maniac to fail the tests," Satterfield said. "It's an excuse you hear a lot around the SGC. "I don't care if Colonel Dixon has long conversations with his knife, he's mission essential.""

Aiden grinned. "The rumors about Master Sergeant Siler and his wrench are just rumors, and anyway he's mission essential."

"Doc Frasier is mission essential, and really that guy had it coming for being a jerk to Cassandra."

"If the SG teams are having a weekly orgy, well, that's on their own time and they're all mission essential."

Satterfield shook her head. "The stories of mass orgies are sadly exaggerated." She paused, reconsidered her statement, then amended it. "Well, the ones about inter-team orgies. Certainly SG-11 never got invited to any. Of course, everyone knows what SG-1 gets up to..."

"Guys, my point is, I think Rodney's bark is worse than his bite," Cadman said. "I bet he's sweet underneath the prickly exterior."

"Sweet," Aiden repeated.

"My mother warned me to steer clear of American women," Miller said, "and now I see why."

"Are you sure those thorns weren't coated with hallucinogens?" Satterfield asked.

Cadman rolled her eyes. "Believe me, if they had been, Doctor Parrish would have been all over it. He's a nice guy, but he loves his plants way more than anyone should."

"Look on the bright side," Miller said. "With a botanist on the team, you'll be spending plenty of time outdoors instead of cooped up inside the city. I don't know about the rest of you, but sometimes this place gives me the creeps, especially at night. Nothing seems to line up right. It's all off-kilter."

"I noticed that," Satterfield said. "I don't think I've seen a single right angle, even where the floor and walls meet."

"If you don't like where the doors and halls are right now, I can always make some new ones," Cadman offered.

Aiden nodded. "I like the sound of that. We could call it a demolitions training exercise."

"Sure you could," Miller said. "Followed by escape and evasion training as you run from the horde of murderous scientists."

"Somehow I don't think they'd appreciate any remodeling you do," Satterfield added, "no matter how sweet they are."

"I'm going to be regretting that comment, aren't I?" Cadman asked.

"You really are," Satterfield said with a nod. "It'll teach you to think before you speak. It's a valuable skill off-world."

"Wonderful. I'll remember that next time I'm on a mission and get attacked by one of the doc's plants."

"Actually, there was this time SG-22, God rest their souls, ran into some talking plants...."

Aiden was up early the next morning, starting his day off with PT and then something remarkably similar to ham and eggs. After that he had an appointment with Teyla at the range. Major Sheppard had given Aiden the job of getting her reasonably proficient with at least a couple of their weapons by the time the team went off-world again. Sheppard was taking care of McKay himself, because while the man had passed basic firearms safety in order to qualify for the expedition, there was a big gap between that and actually being useful in the field. Aiden wished the major well with his endeavor.

"Are you familiar with firearms at all?" Aiden asked as he set out the weapons he planned to show her. He had checked out an example of each kind of small arms they had, working on the theory she needed to at least recognize everything in the armory.

"I have seen them before meeting your people," Teyla answered. "I have never had a chance to examine any so complex as these, however."

"I'm not surprised. You need precision machinery to make weapons like these. The ones you have seen, do you know if they were muzzle loaders or breach loaders? I mean, did they load through the front of the gun or the back?"

"Mostly the former, but I have seen both." Teyla gave him a steady look. "You will find that while not many worlds can still produce even simple firearms, most people can still recognize them for what they are. The skills to manufacture them have been lost, but they are not forgotten entirely."

"Of course, ma'am." It was another reminder that this was not the Milky Way. There, most people wouldn't know a rifle if it shot them in the ass, except possibly as some strange new form of 'Goa'uld magic'. They had never been allowed to develop anything that might be an effective weapon against their gods.

"We're gonna start with a couple of ground rules," Aiden said. "First, a weapon is always loaded. I don't care if you just saw it unloaded, you still treat it like it is. The only completely safe weapon is one that's in pieces. Second, you never point a weapon at anything you're not willing to shoot. There's a bunch more that I'll teach you as we go along, but those are the most important."

Teyla nodded. "Sensible precautions. I shall keep them in mind."

"Great. We're going to be mostly working with our standard ballistic weapons today, but I'll show you some of the other stuff too." Aiden pointed out a nine mil. "This our standard-issue sidearm, a Beretta M9. You've probably seen that all the guys carry one around with them. It's got a fifteen-round magazine and is effective out to about fifty meters. It doesn't have a lot of stopping power, but it's still pretty useful for personal defense when dealing with unarmored targets."

He moved on to the next set of weapons. "Now these are entirely different beasts. This is the M4 carbine, our main rifle, and it's bigger brother the M16A4. You'll notice the M4 is shorter, which reduces effective range a bit but makes it easier to handle in close quarters. It's also got these rails for add-on units like grenade launchers. It's what we plan for you to carry in the field."

Teyla carefully picked up the M4, handling it with considerably more grace than most recruits and obviously testing its balance. "It does seem to be a suitable size and weight. The... barrel, yes? The barrel seems rather small, though."

"It was a trade-off between projectile size and velocity. Trust me, with the right kind of rounds these'll put down just about anything."

"I will take your word for it."

Aiden grinned as he picked up the next weapon. It was roughly the same size and shape as an MP5 or similar submachine gun, except where it should have had a barrel it had a cluster of three black, glassy lenses. "This here's my favorite. It's a basilisk gun, also called a medusa or stoner weapon. The name comes from our mythology. Now, don't ask me how it works, but basically it does something with quantum tunnels to make some of the target's carbon atoms change into silicon, and an equal number just disappear. Really, what's important is that if I point this at something and pull the trigger, it bursts into flame. It needs a clear line of sight and doesn't handle smoke or fog well, but it's still pretty cool."

"Would it not be hot?"

"Sort of, but not really. I mean, hot's usually good too, but you use it more for how people look. Although it is used for things sometimes."

"Why?"

"Uh..." When Aiden glanced her way, Teyla had a small smile that suggested she knew it was just an idiom that didn't have any basis in reality or logic. "Maybe I can explain later?"

Teyla laughed briefly. "That would be fine, Aiden."

"Cool." Aiden put the basilisk down and picked up a clip for the M4 and handed it to her. "So we'll start by teaching you how to load and fire the rifle, then once you're getting the hang of it I'll show you how to disassemble and clean it. Believe me, if I let you out of here without knowing that, Sergeant Gutierrez would kick my ass."

"I thought that a lieutenant was ranked higher than a sergeant. Was I incorrect?"

"Well, no, ma'am. Lieutenants are officers and in command, while sergeants are enlisted, but there's authority and then there's authority. Only an idiot doesn't at least listen to his sergeant's advice."

"I understand. You lead, but they speak from greater experience," Teyla said with a nod. "It is a position I know well. And among the officers, it is the Air Force which is superior, yes?"

"Oh, God, no," Aiden said, completely aghast. "Why do you think that?"

"Colonel Mitchell, Major Sheppard, and Major Lorne are all Air Force. I assumed it was some sort of symbolic division of the air over the sea. Was I wrong?"

Aiden honestly wasn't sure if she was pulling his leg again or not, but he wasn't taking any chances. "That's just a coincidence. The services are actually equal. In fact, the Air Force mostly flies planes. If you need someone to do actual fighting down in the dirt, it's the Marines you want. "

"And yet you are named for the ocean," Teyla pointed out, this time with an obvious smile. "Should you not fight at sea?"

"It's complicated, ma'am, but if you're willing to listen, I'm willing to explain."

"Perhaps once we finish here you can."

The two of them spent most of the morning together, until Aiden was more or less satisfied that Teyla could handle an M4, Beretta, and a Zat competently. Sure, she wouldn't be earning an expert marksman badge anytime soon, but for someone who hadn't personally used a firearm, or grown up in a society where they were common, she caught on pretty damned quick. Aiden expected she would be fully qualified much quicker than the average recruit. Unarmed combat was another thing entirely. In the afternoon she showed up at the gym and promptly cleaned Aiden's clock, and then went on to spar with several of the other marines with equal success. If he had possessed any doubts about her ability to watch his back, they would have been quickly extinguished.

Team Sheppard -- technically Atlantis Reconnaissance Team 2, but no one called it that -- went on their first official first-contact mission three days later. The mission was about as simple as they got. There was an Athosian trade partner that was scheduled to visit Athos sometime in the next week. That wasn't desirable for obvious reasons, so the team was going to warn them off. It would also serve as a chance for Teyla to introduce them in the hopes that the expedition could open up trade relations of their own.

It was a warm day on the other side, where Teyla said it was late spring. There were some ruins in the clearing around the gate. They were little more than smooth, roughly man-sized stone blocks scattered haphazardly about in the knee-high grass. There seemed to be no particular pattern or purpose to them. They weren't tall enough to block a dart coming through the gate or even inconvenience people on foot, and if the layout was meant to be artistic it wasn't obvious from ground level. Other than that, there were no signs that anyone lived nearby. About fifty yards away the clearing turned to bush and trees, though, so it was possible a settlement could be nearby but still out of sight.

"What do we do now, Teyla?" Sheppard asked after the MALP had been sent home.

"Now we wait," Teyla said. "The Anavay are a cautious and shy people who rarely show themselves to strangers. Once they know we are here, they will likely observe us for a time to judge our intent. Given that I am with you, I am sure they will approach us eventually."

"Sounds good to me. Anyone got any cards?

"Cards?" McKay said. "Aren't you supposed to keep watch or something? I don't want to be eaten by some alien monstrosity because you two are too busy playing games to do your jobs."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "It was a joke, Rodney. Lighten up. Besides, I don't think there's anything here that wants to eat you."

"Actually," Teyla interjected, "this world is known for the unusually large bears that live in the forest around the gate. It is one reason they receive few visitors. The furs are quite nice, though. It is one of the Anavays' main exports."

"Bears, you say," Sheppard said.

"Yes."

"Unusually large ones."

"They are around twice your height when they stand upright. The males, at least; the females are perhaps half again that size."

Aiden whistled. "That's bigger than a polar bear."

"Are these the sort bears that are shy and just want to be left alone," Sheppard asked, "or are they the sort that stalk people across the tundra for hours like an unstoppable killing machine?"

"They have been known to attack and devour humans," Teyla answered. "However, it is unlikely they would do so at this time of year, when other prey is plentiful."

"Unlikely," McKay said. "That's wonderful. That's really, really wonderful. Why am I here again?"

"Because you're part of the team and there's no way of telling when we might need you to do some science stuff," Sheppard said. "Don't worry. If the Anna guys can hunt the bears, I'm sure we can fend them off with automatic weapons and laser guns."

"I'm just saying, we are potentially dooming the entire expedition if some bear devours me for lunch. Hey! Don't give me that look, Major. She used that exact word, devour!"

"They only attack humans on occasion," Teyla said. "Mostly they eat berries, small animals, and the odd boar or deer."

"And people!"

"You know, I once heard that bears are attracted to noise," Sheppard said. "Maybe we should just sit here quietly. We wouldn't to give our hosts a bad impression, either."

Aiden was pretty sure that you were actually supposed to be noisy to let the bears know you were there, so that they wouldn't get startled and angry, but he was also pretty sure the major knew that. McKay made a disgruntled harrumph noise, but instead of complaining further he pulled out his tablet computer and sat down on one of the stone blocks. Aiden hoped that it wasn't taboo to do so, although he supposed that pissing off the natives when you were still ten feet from the DHD was better than pissing off the natives once you were in their village and surrounded by bloodthirsty guys with spears.

If the locals were angry about anything, they didn't show it. In fact, they didn't show up at all during the next hour. Even Teyla seemed to be getting a little annoyed by their failure to at least tell them all to leave.

"I'm starting to think that they don't even know we're here," Sheppard said eventually.

"I suppose that is possible," Teyla said in a doubtful tone. "I think it may be more likely that they do not wish to approach since there are so many strangers. Perhaps they believe I am not here by choice."

"Maybe they were eaten by bears," McKay suggested without looking away from his computer.

"Major, we might have better luck if you and I walked a short distance into the forest. The Anavay may be more willing to approach if there are only two of us.

Sheppard shrugged. "Sounds like a better idea than sitting around here all day."

"Sure it's a good idea to split the party, sir?" Aiden asked. Sheppard gave him an odd look and he ducked his head. "Never mind, sir."

"I think we can handle ourselves without the protection of the Marine Corps for a little bit, Lieutenant," Sheppard said with smile. "Maintain radio contact, check in every ten minutes, don't let anything eat McKay -- you know the drill better than I do."

"Yes, sir." Aiden watched them until they entered passed into the forest and out of sight behind some thick bushes. With nothing else to do, he went back to keeping guard, roaming around the immediate area a little while keeping a close eye on his charge. Other than a few bugs and some birds, there wasn't anything else in the immediate area.

"Did you hear that?" McKay suddenly said.

"Here what?"

"That rustling noise!"

Aiden quickly walked back to McKay and listened carefully for a minute before shaking his head. "It was probably just the wind."

"Just the wind? It could be some kind of animal."

"Sure, but if it is it's probably just a rabbit or something. I'm pretty sure we'd notice a fifteen-foot bear."

"Just because there's bears doesn't mean there's not a dozen other deadly predators lurking in the bushes."

Aiden slowly turned in a circle and carefully observed the area. There were no suspicious movements or depressed area in the grass that might indicate a lurking animal or cloaked person, nor did any dark shapes move among the trees and bushes past the clearing. There was a bit of a breeze, though, which occasionally made the grass wave and the tree limbs rustle.

"It's nothing," he decided.

"Nothing," McKay scoffed. "Do you know how many SG missions have gone horribly, horribly wrong following a statement like that? Hundreds."

Aiden chuckled. "I know. But there's plenty where people said it and nothing happened, because it really was nothing."

"Every time you've gone off-world so far, something bad has happened," McKay pointed out. "That doesn't inspire much confidence that it's really nothing."

"Fine. There's actually a giant grass-dwelling, bear-eating snake sneaking up on us. Teyla didn't mention they existed because she thought it would be a neat surprise. Are you happy?"

McKay glared at Aiden. "Funny."

Before Aiden could reply, there was a thunk and an electric buzzing as the gate began powering up behind him. He didn't think, just reacted as he was trained to: head for cover that's as close to perpendicular to the gate as possible while still retaining line of sight. He grabbed McKay and started sprinting for a cluster of bushes about thirty yards away at eleven o'clock, ignoring the way the scientist squawked and forcing him to keep up. They reached the bushes just as the gate engaged and Aiden threw them both down behind cover.

"What the hell are you doing?" McKay gasped.

"Someone's dialing in," Aiden whispered as he repositioned himself so he could see the gate.

"It's probably Atlantis."

"They won't check in for another thirty minutes."

"That doesn't mean - oh, crap."

A group of eleven Wraith stepped through the wormhole. Three were male leaders similar to the one Aiden had killed on the hiveship a few days before. They had flowing white hair that reached most of the way down their backs and strange tattoos upon their blue-green faces. Even from a distance it was clear they weren't human, moving like some strange cross between the graceful motion of a big cat and the sudden starts and stops of a predatory insect. The other Wraith were marginally taller but much more muscular, and had rough masks over their faces. They also bore long, almost needle-like weapons. Aiden suspected they were some kind of soldier.

The Wraith stood completely motionless before the now-inactive gate for a minute. Finally one of the males pointed off in the direction Sheppard and Teyla had gone. The males stalked off that way along with four soldiers, leaving the other four behind to guard the gate.

Aiden reached for his radio, but before he could click it on, his earpiece crackled to life.

"Ford, sitrep," Sheppard said.

"We just had Wraith come through the gate," Aiden quietly responded. "Seven headed your way, plus four more still at the gate. No signs of any darts, gate is currently inactive."

"Damn it." Sheppard was silent for a few seconds. "Can you neutralize the ones at the gate and dial home?"

Aiden considered it. With the element of surprise, it might be doable, especially since they could fire from partial concealment. The real question was what kind of weapons the Wraith had and how fast their reflexes were.

"I think so, sir," he said.

"Good. Here's the plan, then. We're going to try to circle around and lose the guys after us. At my signal, take down the guards and dial out. I do not want them to see where we're going. Hold the gate if at all practical, but do not endanger yourself to do so. If you don't get the go signal in five minutes, move on without us."

"Roger that, sir." Aiden studied the position of the Wraith for a few more moments, then turned to McKay. "You can use that zat, right?"

"Sheppard made me shoot it until he was happy, but –"

Aiden cut McKay off before he could worry himself to death. "That's a yes. Here's what we'll do. You see those two on the left, the side closer to us?"

"I'm not blind."

"When I say go, you just need to rise up enough to fire over the bush and the grass. I want you to try to shoot those two. Hit 'em each with a double tap if you can, but if nothing else just spray them with fire. The zat's good for a couple hundred shots, so don't worry about ammo."

"What if I miss?" McKay hissed.

"Then you'll keep them distracted long enough for me to kill them. Just do your best."

"Do my best," McKay muttered as he moved around so that he could spring up faster. "I'm a physicist, not a soldier. I shouldn't have to be shooting anything. And remind me to kill Sheppard for leaving me here with a just twenty-year-old to guard my back."

"I'm twenty-five," Aiden pointed out. "And would you really prefer a helicopter pilot to a rifleman?"

McKay thought about that a second. "Good point."

A minute crept by, followed by another. Aiden was starting to worry when suddenly his radio clicked twice. He reached over, smacked McKay lightly on the arm, and hissed, "Go!"

Aiden stood, lined up one of the Wraith with the target reticle in his weapon's video scope, and squeezed the trigger. The Wraith went down, a plate-sized hole burnt clear through its chest, and Aiden moved on to the next Wraith before it had time to react. Beside him McKay was firing his zat wildly, but not without effect: much to Aiden's surprise, the third and fourth Wraith were already down before he had a chance to take a shot himself.

"Good shooting, doc," Aiden said. "Come on, let's move."

They ran back to the gate. While McKay dialed home, Aiden carefully approached the two zatted Wraith. They looked dead, but only a few days before he had seen a Wraith queen take a few dozen rifle rounds and keep breathing. He figured it would be better to be safe than sorry, so he leveled his weapon at one and torched its head.

"What did you do that for?" McKay asked.

"I'm making sure they're dead."

"We need samples!"

Aiden grimaced, because there had been a long series of memos out of the xenobiology department demanding that the gate teams bring back an intact Wraith corpse for study if at all possible. Given that they had one sitting there four feet from the gate, he was pretty sure that he'd get yelled at for not complying, combat situation or not.

"Right, okay," he said after a moment. "If that one moves, zat it again until it stops." Once McKay had his zat out to cover the probably-dead Wraith, Aiden pulled up his sleeve and punched his IDC into his GDO.

"Atlantis, this is Ford," he said into his radio.

"Campbell here, sir," Chuck replied. "Go ahead."

"We've had another encounter with the Wraith," Aiden said. "McKay and I are at the gate, but Major Sheppard and Teyla were separated from us when they arrived and may be under attack. I'm sending McKay back with a Wraith corpse. Have a containment team ready."

"Copy that, sir. Defense teams are standing by."

Aiden looked at McKay. "Go on through."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay to, uh, watch your back or anything?"

"I'll be fine."

"Positive?"

"Yes," Aiden said, eying McKay and wondering if he'd been replaced by a doppelganger. "Go."

"Going!" McKay cautiously bent down to grasp the Wraith by one wrist, the one not attached to the life-sucking hand, and grunting and groaning he pulled it back through the gate. Once he was gone, Aiden crouched down behind the DHD, where he could watch his surroundings with at least some degree of cover. There was still no sign of the rest of the team, and a call on the radio went unanswered by Sheppard.

"Ford, report," Colonel Mitchell radioed. "What's your status?"

"Gate is secure, sir, but we still have hostiles in the area."

"Hold your position. We'll have relief heading your way in five."

"Aye, sir."

The quiet of the clearing was broken by the sound of gunfire. It rapidly drew closer and soon Aiden could see Sheppard and Teyla running through the forest, occasionally pausing to turn and fire back the way they had come and ducking the blue bolts that shot back in reply. Aiden could see other dark shapes behind them, moving through the trees with inhuman speed. They were too far into the woods to get a clear shot yet and Aiden's teammates were in the way.

Teyla and Sheppard broke clear of the treeline and began sprinting the last few dozen yards. Halfway there Sheppard suddenly went limp and crashed to the ground. Teyla stopped, spun around, and fired off a burst into the forest before ducking down to pull Sheppard into a fireman's carry. Even she couldn't move fast carrying a full-grown man, though, and Aiden knew there was no way they'd make it to safety before the Wraith managed to hit her, too. He still didn't have a clear shot, but after a moment he realized he didn't need one. A basilisk gun wasn't ideal for suppressive fire, due to issues with dwell time and the slight delays caused by the need to change the focus of the lenses to hit targets at different distances, but here it would do just fine. He pulled and held the trigger while playing the weapon across the trees and watching them blacken and burst into flame wherever the beam landed. Everything was too wet to start an outright forest fire, but anything directly hit burned just fine and many of the trees snapped and fell as parts of their trunks turned to ash. Clouds of smoke quickly started to obscure his line of sight, but by that point Teyla had reached the gate and as soon as she was through, he backed into the wormhole himself.

Once he was clear of the event horizon, the shield sprang up and an instant later the wormhole disappeared with a snap. Aiden turned to see Teyla and several medics crouched over Sheppard, with McKay and Mitchell hovering up on the stairs a few feet away.

"He's breathing," one medic announced. "Come on, let's get him on a stretcher."

"What the hell happened?" Mitchell demanded as Sheppard was wheeled away.

"I don't know, sir," Aiden replied. "We sat around for an hour and a half, then a dozen Wraith showed up."

"Damn it." Mitchell shook his head. "Nothing like this happened to my team, you know."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

Mitchell gave him a puzzled look. "Don't go apologizing for Sheppard's amazing ability to find trouble wherever he goes. I swear, in Afghanistan he was either greeted with open arms and parties by the locals or people started firing off RPGs and recoilless rifles before his chopper got two miles from base."

"I see, sir." It was not the most reassuring thing Aiden had ever heard. People with that kind of reputation at the SGC usually ended up messily dead, and if they weren't on SG-1 they tended to stay that way. He hoped the trend would reverse and quickly. The team's luck had held out so far, but Aiden didn't want to find out if it would hold like it had for SG-1 or if they'd be more like any number of teams that had made two or three narrow escapes and then ended up scattered in pieces all across an alien landscape.

* * *

Wednesday afternoon found Evan out with his team on the east pier conducting a survey of Central Park. It wasn't all that central, but it was only natural to compare the sprawling green space that took up much of the pier's arm to the one in New York City. It was plopped incongruously in the middle of the wide metal deck and overshadowed at both ends by the city's towering spires, near what they suspected might be the residential area out on the pier. It was pretty big, almost three miles long and a mile wide, and had a half-mile wide lake near one end. Remarkably there were still living plants covering most of the area. For the most part it was just grasses with some scraggly trees and scrubs here and there. Most of them were pretty sorry-looking to someone used to the forests and fields of Earth, but over ten thousand years the plants had adapted to the low levels of artificial light the city provided and even thrived. It was a good sign for the expedition. If the botanists Evan's team was shepherding were able to figure out what kept the place irrigated and their soil tests turned out well, it was possible they could start planting some of their seeds by the end of the week.

Of course, as soon as Evan saw Bates leave the nearby transporter and start walking his way, he knew that his thus-far good day was about to take a turn for the worse.

"Afternoon, Gunnery Sergeant," Evan said. "Come out to see our little garden?"

"No, sir, although I'm sure that it's very exciting."

"Not really, but if we can grow some carrots and potatoes I don't care how boring it is."

"Of course, sir." Bates waited a beat, then said, "You might be interested to know that Major Sheppard's team has returned ahead of schedule."

"Again? They've only been gone forty minutes."

"Yes, sir, I know. Their jumper returned about ten minutes ago. In case you were wondering, it turns out that the gate shield can safely withstand the impact of multiple aircraft at high velocity."

Evan looked down and rubbed his forehead. "Once is happenstance. Twice is circumstance. But three times?"

"Enemy action," Bates finished. "It's four times, if you count the original attack on Athos."

"Damn it." Evan glanced over at where Parrish was happily babbling about something to Doctor Brown and Kanaan, one of the Athosians. He decided that where they were was too public for the discussion they needed to have, so he looked the other way and called, "Cadman!

"Sir?"

"I'm returning to the control tower. Keep an eye on things and don't blow anything up."

"Aye aye, sir."

A few minutes later Evan and Bates were seated at a table in Evan's office and going over mission reports on his laptop. They were trying to find any plausible connection between the ones that had gone wrong that didn't also apply to the ones that hadn't. They weren't having much luck.

"Okay, so it doesn't matter how long they're on the planet," Evan said. "The Wraith show up anytime from half an hour to six hours after arrival, and both of the missions that weren't attack were of similar length. It doesn't matter where in the galaxy they are, either. The addresses we've gone to correspond with locations all over the place."

"It looks that way, sir," Bates agreed. "The only thing I can think of is that someone's informing the Wraith at some point during the missions."

As little as Evan liked it that was the conclusion he was leaning toward as well. "Let's assume that's the case. How are they doing it?"

"They've got to have some sort of transmitter," Bates said. "It'd need to have interstellar range, too, since we would have noticed a gate activation."

"Something like a Goa'uld communications sphere or a Tollan signaling device, then. It'd probably be disguised as something else, which wouldn't be hard if the Wraith have comparable technology."

Bates nodded. "It might even explain the differences in how long it took for the Wraith to show up. If different groups of Wraith have control over or are responsible for different areas, then it might take time for a signal to reach them."

"Makes sense, although I don't want to make assumptions about Wraith society like that." There were social scientists and biologists digging through the database looking for as much info on the Wraith as they could, but it was going slow. The indexing system was amazingly complex and obtuse and the need to translate everything slowed the search to a crawl. "Next question, then: motive. Why would an Athosian help the Wraith?"

"The same reason villagers help the Goa'uld and Jaffa -- they worship them, fear them, or think they can get a reward. We've seen it a hundred times."

"Normally, I'd agree with you, but in this case it doesn't make much sense," Evan said. "They culled a bunch of Athosians along with our guys and firebombed the place. That doesn't inspire cooperation."

"I'm not saying it's all of them. All it takes is one or two collaborators," Bates said. "They might not even realize it, which could explain the weird timing."

"Za'tarcs. One of them goes off-world for some reason, gets a little drunk and separated from the rest, and wakes up the next morning with a little extra something in their head." Evan considered the idea. It didn't quite explain everything, but it made more sense than just about any other scenario. He hated the thought of going back to the bad old days, when the some of the Goa'uld had found a way around the SGC's counter-possession and counter-brainwashing procedures and gotten several unwitting agents with hidden triggers past security. It had reached the point that gate missions had all but ground to a halt because of the necessity of doing an hour-long za'tarc test of each team member, until finally R&amp;D and the Tok'ra had developed a faster method. It had taken even longer to create a safe cure, and the threat had only really disappeared after an SG team nuked the Morrigan's research lab. Like most snakes, she hadn't believed in sharing her technology with others.

"It'll be a pain in the ass to figure out who it is," Evan said.

"Not necessarily, sir. Traders would be the most likely candidates for subversion. We also have to consider who's known about the missions."

"Mitchell's team wasn't attacked, and he didn't have an Athosian along," Evan said slowly. "On the other hand, we had Kanaan with us yesterday, and it was probably the smoothest first contact mission I've ever been on. Sheppard's team, on the other hand, is the one that keeps attracting attention."

Bates nodded. "Which suggest the problem is Ms. Emmagan."

"She knew about both of our missions," Evan pointed out. "Still, I think you may be on to something. Who better to subvert than their leader?"

"Exactly, sir. She also delayed our departure from Athos and had ART-2 split up on the last mission."

Evan sighed. "Sheppard is going to be pissed."

"I'm afraid that's your problem, sir, not mine," Bates replied with something that might almost be a smile, if Bates were in fact capable of smiling. Evan was still unsure about that.

They spent most of an hour building on their idea, examining the reports once again to see how a theoretical collaborator with access to some sort of subspace communicator could potentially send a signal to the Wraith. They couldn't explain everything, especially the disparate timing of the attacks, but it was clear that there had been plenty of opportunities for someone to send a message. Once they were sure they could defend the theory, they requested a meeting with Weir and Mitchell. The leaders listened with increasingly grim faces as Evan and Bates laid it out for them.

"If someone is under mind control, shouldn't we have noticed during medical checks?" Weir asked.

"Not necessarily, ma'am," Bates answered. "Take za'tarc programming. The SGC didn't catch it until someone shot up a diplomatic meeting, and it took six months to develop a reliable countermeasure. While it's now detectable with routine brain scans, the Wraith may use a different method that we don't account for. It'd be especially easy to miss if it's a very subtle trigger and response set, as opposed to a full-on alternate personality."

"We also have to consider that normal scans rely on a pre-mission baseline to detect changes," Evan continued. "While all of our personnel have baselines on record, that's not the case with the Athosians. If the change was made before we met them, as appears to be the case, we wouldn't notice."

Weir sighed and nodded. "I understand. What do you recommend?"

"We break out the za'tarc detector and do full-scale psych probes," Evan said. "Starting with everyone captured during the first attack on Athos."

"I include the other captured marines and myself, in that recommendation," Bates said. "It's possible that one of us could have been subverted in a way that would pass standard exams."

"Psych probes. Great," Mitchell said. "And if all of those people are cleared?"

"Then we move on to other high-risk subjects, such as traders, sir."

"Christ, this is going to be mess."

"That's one way of putting it," Evan agreed.

"What else?"

"We need to search their belongings for the transmitter," Evan said.

"We also need to restrict their movements in the city," Bates added. "I'm specifically thinking of stargate operations, the armory, the power room, and any labs holding dangerous technology or substances. There's not really any reason they should need to visit those places without an escort in the first place."

"I wouldn't be sure they'd see it the same way," Weir said. "They're used to unrestricted access to the stargate."

"I realize that, ma'am, but there's no reason they can't just ask to pass through the lower level as needed. They do not need to be anywhere near the control room itself."

Mitchell nodded reluctantly. "They've got a point there. We have been pretty lax."

"Yes, they do," Weir said. "Thinking about it, we really don't know anything about these people, and if there is someone in contact with the Wraith we need to act quickly for everyone's safety. Gentlemen, I'll need to discuss this matter with Teyla before we actually do anything, but I want you to begin planning to implement your recommendations as soon as possible."

"Yes, ma'am," Evan said.

"Thank you for your diligence. Dismissed."

Planning was definitely the easier job compared to the discussion Weir would need to have with Teyla about the changes and the proposed scans and searches. Evan was pretty sure there wasn't a good way to essentially accuse someone's friends and family of collaborating with the enemy, no matter how unwillingly it might be. Evan and Bates, on the other hand, just had to write a few orders for the guards, plan for a room-to-room search, and touch base with some of the scientists to figure out how to detect a transmitter. Some of the contingencies for what to do if someone resisted the search or flipped out while being scanned were a bit unpleasant, yes, but those were nothing that they hadn't done numerous times before at the SGC or while doing counter-insurgency operations before that.

A couple hours later, John came storming into Evan's office.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he angrily asked.

Evan checked his watch. "Huh. Five minutes early. Gunny, I think we're more or less done here. Go ahead and get started with stage one."

"Aye, sir." Bates stood and headed for the door with a polite nod to John.

John glared at the marine before stalking over to plant his hands on Evan's desk and lean forward. "Are you going to answer my question or not?"

Evan calmly crossed his arms and looked up at John. "I'm guessing you're talking about our security situation."

"Damn straight I am. I want to know why you're accusing a member of my team of being a traitor."

"I'm not accusing anyone of being a traitor. A victim of mind-control, possibly. But not a traitor. I'm also not positive it's Teyla as opposed to one of the other Athosians."

"Bullshit," John said. "The way Cam was talking, you and Bates are sure it's her."

"That's what the evidence seems to indicate, yeah," Evan admitted. "However, it's possible she's being framed, and if that's the case then our investigation will prove it."

"And by investigation you mean interrogations and searches," John said. "Setting aside the fact that some of them are friends, these people are valuable allies and you're talking about _probing_ them."

"It's a completely non-invasive probe," Evan said with a grin, which slowly faded in the face of John's continued glare. He sighed. "John, I know Teyla's your friend. I like her too. But we can't risk the safety of the expedition and the safety of the Athosians on the basis of friendship, not in a case like this. Someone among them has been giving away your position to the Wraith, and we need to find out who it is before they get someone killed."

"When the hell did you get this paranoid?"

"About a week after I joined Stargate Command, that's when. Also, it's not paranoia when there really are pod people out to kill you. I don't want someone to slip a grenade out of the armory and toss it into the mess during lunch."

"Whatever," John said. He pushed away from the desk and headed for the door.

"John," Evan called. John paused and glanced over his shoulder. "If I were you, I'd volunteer for testing, too."

John frowned. "Why? I was never in enemy hands."

"It'll look good to the Athosians and probably help smooth things over with Teyla, especially given how pissed you are about this. Team solidarity and all that."

"I'll keep that in mind, Major," John said before leaving.

"Well, there goes my chances of getting laid tonight," Evan said after a minute. He knew there was going to be no way to talk to John in a reasonable way for at least a few hours. The man was never rational when it came to defending his friends, and while that was one of his more endearing traits it could also be his most aggravating at times. Evan knew he meant well, but John didn't have a clue what they might be dealing with in this situation. Barely two months of training, most of it focused on other matters of more immediate concern, wasn't the same thing at all as genuine experience with the nastier things hostile aliens could throw at you.

They began to conduct tests the next morning. There were several suitable isolation rooms near the infirmary. The setup inside was simple enough. On one side of the room was a padded chair with restraints, situated in the middle of a five-pointed containment geometry drawn on the floor with conductive paint. On the other side was a table holding the expedition's za'tarc detector. The device was made by the SGC and, as so often happened when they ripped off alien technology, looked like the bargain-basement knockoff of the original Tok'ra device. Where the Tok'ra version had elegant curves and delicate controls, the SGC version had straight lines, burnished metal, and a keyboard and screen pulled from a ruggedized field laptop. When unfolded from its carrying case, it looked like some kind of vaguely sinister instrument pulled from an optometrist's office. There were two chairs for the operators; while ideally they could have worked from the safety of the observation room above, the machine worked best with someone physically present.

John insisted on going first, of course. He passed with flying colors, far more easily than most SGC members would have. Once you did enough off-world missions, you typically racked up plenty of questions that were answered with, "yes, but" and required further qualification, such as, "Yes, I've shot a fellow officer, but he was snake," or, "Yes, I technically committed treason, but I was high on alien drugs when I proclaimed myself Emperor of Storage Room 24-C78 and seceded from the Union." There were also all the little psychological quirks that built up to consider. It was a wonder that SG-1 could even pass the tests anymore - assuming they really could pass and weren't just being cleared regardless.

Teyla was next. John had allowed her to observe his session, and now that she had seen it carried out she wanted to experience it herself before allowing any of her people to undergo it. Evan and Heightmeyer greeted her as a pair of marines led her in.

"Good morning, ma'am," Evan said politely.

Teyla gave him a cool look. "Major Lorne."

"This is Doctor Heightmeyer, our psychiatrist," Evan went on. "She'll be helping to conduct the test."

"Please, call me Kate," Heightmeyer said. "I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances."

"As am I. Shall we get this over with?"

"Of course. Please, sit down."

Teyla settled into the chair and waited patiently as the marines strapped her in. "Are the restraints necessary?"

"They are," Evan confirmed. "We didn't tie Sheppard down just for fun, even if he did enjoy it. They're there to make sure you don't hurt yourself if something goes wrong."

"Is that likely?"

"Not at this stage, no," Heightmeyer said. She waved for the marines to leave and then attached a pair of quarter-sized discs to Teyla's temples. "I want to assure you that I'll be closely monitoring your vital signs throughout the procedure, and that we have a medical team standing by. Please inform us immediately if you experience any discomfort or pain."

"Also, you should know that everything you say within this room will remain in complete confidence," Evan said, continuing along the standard spiel. "While there will be recordings, they will be under seal and not accessible without authorization from Doctor Weir and Colonel Mitchell. I understand that you're willing to let Major Sheppard observe, but that's in no way necessary."

"I would prefer if he watches," Teyla said. "I have nothing to hide from him."

"That's your choice. Also, should the test be positive, you have the right to request that it be administered again by someone else."

"I doubt that will be necessary," she replied.

"I hope so, too."

"We're ready to begin whenever you are, Teyla," Heightmeyer said. She and Evan took their places behind the detector.

"Then let us do so," Teyla said.

Evan began hitting a series of safety toggles along the top of the detector's controls. Lights began to project from the upraised arm of the machine, splashing a constantly-changing field of colors across Teyla's face as it projected complex, visual-cortex-hacking fractal geometries into her eyes. At the same time, the circle surrounding her was charged slightly, in case there was any kind of incorporeal entity lurking within her brain that might try to escape.

"Would you please tell us your full name?" Heightmeyer asked.

"I am Teyla Emmagan, daughter of Tagan."

"Your mother's name?"

"Tagan Emmagan, daughter of Sarren."

"Father?"

"Torren Kinselan, son of Teyla."

The questions continued along that line for a few minutes, with Evan and Heightmeyer asking for trivial information like Teyla's age and what she had for breakfast. The purpose wasn't so much to establish any kind of baseline for true or false answers as to make Teyla more comfortable. Soon enough they moved on to the matter at hand.

"Have you ever had any contact with the Wraith?" Evan asked.

"No," Teyla answered. On the detector screen, several of the readouts turned shades of red and blipped upwards.

"Let me clarify that: we're asking if you've had any contact with them at all, not necessarily up close and personal."

Teyla raised one of her eyebrows and said in an extremely dry voice, "In that case, yes, I have, Major. I have had contact with them on many occasions."

The readouts returned to normal levels. Heightmeyer said, "Think back to your earliest memories of the Wraith. Tell us about them."

Teyla closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. "The first I can remember of the Wraith is when I was not quite six years old. It was only a single dart and they took only two or three of us. I think it was more intended to incite terror than to truly cull. They seem to hold a spite against Athos beyond that of they have for other worlds. Why, I do not know. In any case, I was in my mother's tent when the dart came...."

She recounted the story as best as she could, given her age at the time, filling in the gaps with the stories told to her by Torren and Charin. The detector stayed quiescent the entire time, the readings entirely consistent with the expected results of such an early memory. Evan would have been surprised that hadn't been the case.

It was when they moved on to her the next encounter with the Wraith that things started to go wrong.

Teyla was thirteen at the time and had just entered puberty. She was off-world with her father on a trade mission to Manaria. The Wraith came while they were there, this time a half-dozen darts that raided the largest town. Manaria was a more populated world than Athos and a more attractive target for hungry keepers. This time she recalled things clearly: the whine of the darts, the fires their weapons started as they sought to drive people from shelter, the screams of the crowds as they fled. In the panic she was separated from her father and the other traders, only rejoining them by the gate much later that night. They were lucky enough to have all made it to safety.

The detector objected to her story, though. The master indicator wasn't spitting up the bright red warnings of a deliberate lie or an impending eruption of some second personality, but it was glowing with the soft purples associated with some kind of subtle omission or suppressed memory. Something about her brain activity and other biological reactions was sending up warning flags to the detector's expert system. It was hard to say whether Teyla was deliberately leaving something out or if she genuinely didn't remember at that stage, but neither possibility was a pleasant one.

If it had been just that incident, it might have been only the result of stress-blurred memories. It kept happening, though. When Teyla talked about the next attack, which had taken her father from her when she was seventeen, the indicator was purple. It stayed that way for the next two attacks, one on Athos and another near-miss on different planet. Her stories for all four Wraith encounters after meeting the expedition matched the reports of her teammates, but still the readouts had irregular blips and oscillations where there should have been none.

"Have you ever communicated with a Wraith?" Heightmeyer asked when they reached the end of their list of questions.

"Not really, no," Teyla said. _Blip_ went an indicator. "The only time I have seen one up close was aboard the hiveship, when Toran and Colonel Sumner were taken. It was the male leader. He did nothing more than hiss at us and point at who he wanted, though. I would hardly call it communication." _Blip_.

Evan glanced at Heightmeyer, who was making notes on her PDA. She tilted it so he could see a note: _'Let go, follow up later. Plan C.'_ It was one of their contingencies for this situation. They would send Teyla away thinking she had passed, and once they were done with the other interviews they would ask her for a 'follow-up' session. That would give them time to prepare for an intervention.

"That's it," Evan told Teyla with a smile. "We'll need to analyze the data to be sure, but it looks to me like you're free and clear. We'll get you out of those restraints and -"

John chose that moment to burst into the room, as much as anyone could burst through a sliding door. "Hold on, guys. There's a perfectly good explanation for all this."

"Major Sheppard!" Heightmeyer snapped, jumping to her feet. "Get out!"

"No, really, I can explain."

Evan was at the door an instant later, grabbing hold of John and propelling him out of the room and across the hall. He planted his arm across John's chest and pinned him against the wall.

"What the fuck was that?" Evan growled. When John just blinked at him with wide-eyed surprised, he went on, "You do not interrupt a za'tarc test like that! If we'd had her under a deep probe or an interrogation geas, you could have fried her brain!"

"I was watching the entire time, I knew you weren't doing that," John protested.

"It doesn't matter. You just alerted her that we're onto her. Do you know how many people have had suicide triggers for that event? Even in restraints, she could have bit off her tongue, assuming the programming couldn't just stop her heart."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," John said. "There's no programming. I know what she's not telling you."

"You do?" Evan said. He sighed and took a step back. "Of course you do. One of these days I'm going to strangle you, Sheppard."

John tugged on his jacket to straighten it out and, if Evan was any judge, make sure it was pulled down far enough to cover his crotch. He glanced up and down the hall to see if there was anyone nearby. The two marine guards were standing a few yards away and carefully ignoring the situation.

"Let's take this back inside," John suggested. He and Evan walked back into the isolation room. "Doc, would you mind giving us a couple of minutes?"

Heightmeyer looked at Evan. "Major?"

Evan nodded. "It's fine, Kate."

She gave him a quizzical look but shrugged and left. Evan crossed his arms and waited expectantly.

John started undoing Teyla's restraints and while he did he asked, "I don't suppose you'd just take my word that everything's okay?"

"I'd love to, John, but I can't."

"Will you promise that this doesn't go beyond this room?"

"Without even knowing what it is?" Evan grimaced but nodded. "I promise, as long as there's no immediate danger to the expedition. I won't make a promise to you I can't keep, and that's as far as I can go."

John glanced at Teyla, who studied the two of them carefully for a minute before nodding slightly. She stood and stretched.

"Some among my people have the gift to sense the Wraith as they approach," Teyla said. "My father was able to, and so am I. It began shortly after my first blood."

"That... would explain a lot, actually," Evan said. "Between that omission and a subconscious feeling that it's communication of some kind, it'd set off the detector. Why didn't you tell us?"

"It is not something that we share with outsiders," Teyla said. "Many would mistrust us if they knew, and we cannot afford suspicion from our trade partners."

"If you could sense them, it's possible they can sense you," Evan pointed out. "That could be how they're following your team."

"Perhaps, but I have never known the feeling to occur before the ring of the ancestors opens," Teyla replied. "Further, Kanaan also possess the gift."

"And our team didn't meet any Wraith, right," Evan said. His shoulders slumped. "Maybe they did something to you on the hiveship, once they realized you could sense them."

"I do not believe so. They would not have anticipated that we would be rescued.Still, I will submit to whatever additional tests you wish."

"Thank you." Evan wasn't completely dissuaded that Teyla was responsible, but it seemed much less likely that she was doing something to actively draw their attention, knowingly or not. If the Wraith did have some way to track her via whatever mechanism allowed her to sense them, avoiding further contact could be as simple as restricting her to the base until they found a way to jam or permanently remove the connection.

"What now?" John asked.

"We still need to be safe and do at least cursory probes on everyone who was captured," Evan decided after thinking it through. "Maybe see what the search turns up. This telepathic connection could be the answer, but we can't assume that. If nothing comes up, we'll have to decide where to go from there."

"I wish you good luck in finding the answer, Major Lorne," Teyla said. "For all our sakes."

Good luck came a little after lunch, in the odd form of Rodney McKay.

"I found this in Teyla's junk," McKay said, holding up a circular pendant made from silver or a similar medal. He had called his team plus Evan, Weir, and Mitchell to his lab.

"It's very nice, McKay," Mitchell said. "I don't know if it's really your style, though."

McKay gave him a withering glare. "Hah hah. It's a very small subspace transmitter."

"I found that in the tunnel Teyla showed me," John said before anyone else could so much as open their mouth. "Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes before the Wraith showed up. There's no way she could have used it to do anything, and --"

"Your defense of her is touching yet completely unnecessary," McKay said, cutting John off mid-sentence. "It's gene-activated. It probably turned on the instant you touched it."

"It's a trap," Weir immediately surmised. "Anyone who can use Ancient technology is a possible threat to the Wraith. A device like this would let them track down anyone with the gene and kill them. It might explain why none of the Athosians have even traces of the Ancient genes associated with activating and using their technology. Ten thousand years of selective culling would remove it from the gene pool entirely."

"It is certainly like them," Teyla said quietly, "to turn such a simple thing against us."

"Has our position been compromised?" Mitchell asked.

"That's the brilliant part," McKay replied. "The city is emitting a low-level EM field that interferes with the transmitter. The Ancients probably saw this kind of thing all the time during their war and created automatic security measures. It only works off-world."

"Could be useful some day," John murmured, although his frown remained.

"Teyla, you have my sincerest apologies for the trouble we've put you and your people through," Weir said. "If there is anything I can do to make up for it, please, feel free to discuss it with me."

"I do not blame you, Elizabeth. I blame only the Wraith." Teyla sighed. "I hope the others feel the same way. Please excuse me. I must go inform them of what has happened."

Evan wasn't sure that either of them really meant most of what they had just said. Weir might be sorry about damaging their new friendship, but almost certainly not the actions that lead to it; Teyla probably harbored at least some ill feelings, because Evan certainly would have. Both of them were too professional to let any of that show, of course. As far as Evan was concerned, he had done his job and if anyone didn't like that, it wasn't his problem. John was probably going to be a bit touchy for a while, but Evan knew he'd come around soon enough.

Now that they knew what they were looking for, it was simple to check over the Athosian quarters for further transmitters in a fast and non-invasive way. Nothing turned up, and to insure that nothing did in the future, a group of engineers was set to the task of determining how they could scan all incoming teams for similar devices. It would be trickier to do it in the field, where the main danger would be, but they thought it might be possible to program the Ancient 'tricorders' to automatically alert the user if something started broadcasting nearby. Evan rather hoped they could make it work, because he didn't really want to end up wearing gloves whenever he was off-world.

Evan didn't see John again until late that evening. He walked Evan's quarters without so much as a knock and started stripping. Evan, who was lying on his bed reading an e-book with his tablet, quirked an eyebrow and set his computer aside.

"Just so you know," John said, "I spent most of dinner explaining to Teyla that you're not actually a heartless, paranoid maniac."

"Thanks, I think," Evan said. "Although I didn't get the impression that she thought I was heartless."

"Maybe not heartless," John agreed. He flopped down on the bed next to Evan and stretched out. "Paranoid and a bit of maniac, yes."

"I told you, it's not paranoia when there's really pod people out to get you."

"You have to admit, you were a bit more zealous than usual. The Lorne I remember would have been subtler. You'd have charmed them so thoroughly that they'd all be volunteering to undergo interrogation."

Evan froze for a moment. "You may have a point. I'm a little... touchy about this kind of security problem," he admitted softly. He sat up and guided John's hand to a spot on his shoulder blade. "Feel that?"

John traced a finger up and down the long scar there. "I've wondered where that came from."

"The start of my second week at the SGC, I was having lunch in the mess," Evan said. "The leader of SG-14, Mike Anders, came in and started going through the line. Then he just took a grenade out of his pocket, pulled the pin, and tossed it over his shoulder. I was one of the lucky ones who got out more or less unhurt."

"Oh." John grimaced and crossed his arms uncomfortably. "Sorry I asked."

Evan shook his head and lied down again, nestling into the crook of John's arm. "Don't sweat it. It was a long time ago."

"Still..." John made a disgruntled noise. "Space vampires, death clouds, and mind control? This job is screwed up."

"It is. But it's also the best thing that's ever happened to me," Evan told him. He nuzzled at John's neck and trailed a hand down his stomach and to points beyond. "We're in Atlantis. Together. What more do I need?"

"Space aliens are going to eat us all, but that's okay because we're getting laid?" John said with a slight smirk. "Seriously?"

"I'm trying to be romantic here," Evan growled. "We're two reunited lovers, exploring a hostile universe and taking comfort in each other's presence in the face of mortal danger."

"I don't even like romance, you know."

"Shut up and stop ruining the mood."

"Shut up and fuck me already, then."

Evan needed no further encouragement.

* * *

The City of the Ancestors held many wonders, but one of the simple pleasures that Teyla appreciated the most was the sunrise. The sun would slowly appear over the seemingly endless ocean, spilling ripples of gold and red in all directions, then begin reflecting off of the millions of windows covering the great spires of the city in a way that scattered rays of light all over the still-shadowy areas. Even the smallest of the buildings rose two or three times her height from the metal deck, and the tallest of them reached to far that their tops almost faded from view. Even the Ancestral city on Athos did not hold such mighty buildings. It was a spectacular sight, whether viewed from the living area of the central tower or from the far sunward edge of the city. It was also, however, a reminder of how strange this place was. To her eyes, it was beautiful in the same was a gemstone was: brilliant, but also cold, hard, and sharp-edged. Barring the few areas that her people and the Tau'ri had made their own, it was as lifeless as a tomb - a bright tomb with tall ceilings and wide spaces, yes, but dead none the less, and far different than the lush forests of Athos.

Teyla was not the only one feeling uncomfortable with her surroundings, and the events of the previous day had only served to heighten that discomfort. Those who had been taken by the Wraith had not appreciated having bad memories dragged up. They had understood the necessity, having heard stories of runners and others unwittingly turned against their own kind, and the fact that the captured Tau'ri had been examined as well had helped mollify them. Understanding was not always the same thing as happiness, however, especially not with such a sensitive topic. As Teyla walked among her people that morning, she could feel an undercurrent of discontent stirring. She would have to do something about it and quickly, before her choices on what to do became more limited.

To that end, she called together several of her advisors for a meeting on one of the control tower's more secluded balconies, where they could have privacy but still be outdoors to enjoy the pleasant weather. With her were Halling, as one of the most prominent detractors of their relationship with the expedition, and Kanaan, who was in favor of a close friendship. Charin was there as a neutral party and lorekeeper.

Once the tea had been served and other pleasantries observed, Teyla began to speak. "It has now been over a week since we fled from Athos and took shelter with the people of Earth here in Atlantis. We have had time to tend to our wounds and it is now time to start rebuilding our lives. What must be decided is how we shall do so. I personally believe that we should maintain close ties to our new friends. Their technology and skills offer us a chance at safety and comfort that we have not known in a dozen generations. However, this is not a decision that I can make on my own. I ask your counsel."

"I think that we must move on as soon as we are able," Halling said. "We are people of the forest, and this city is a maze of metal and glass, devoid of all life, or at least any life the likes of which I know. What would we do? There are no plants to tend, no wood to carve, no animals to hunt. In truth, I am not sure that we are meant for this place, or that any mortal man is."

"We had cities of our own once," Teyla pointed out. "Our ancestors were as mortal as we are."

"But this is not the same. Atlantis is the first city, home of the Firstborn. They created our ancestors and the ancestors of all the peoples of all the worlds. Even in the days that our own people freely sailed the skies, they were as far above us are we are above a hunting dog. There is power here that we were never meant to hold, and I fear for what may happen if the Tau'ri try to use it. I have heard them speaking to each other. For all their knowledge they barely understand even the most basic secrets of this city."

"They have already unleashed one dark creature by accident," Charin murmured. "More may follow."

"And yet Firstborn blood flows in some of them," Teyla replied. "John Sheppard, Carolyn Lam, and several others. If anyone can harness the power of the Ancestors, it will be them."

"Perhaps, but what is safe for them may not be safe for us," Halling said. "There is also the matter of their treatment of us. They searched through our belongings like we were common thieves. They accused us of collaboration with the Wraith! Perhaps they did not know the insult that they gave, but they gave it none the less." He held up his hand as Teyla opened her mouth to reply. "I understand that they had their reasons, that the Wraith had tracked you to other worlds using their technology. It does not excuse the way they behaved toward us, making demands for our cooperation rather than asking as friends. Even now, they restrict where we may go within the city, despite knowing that we are of no danger."

"You speak harshly of them, Halling," Charin observed. "Yet, you wear one of their splints upon your leg, walk with one of their crutches. Their drugs allow you to do so without pain."

Halling tipped his head in acknowledgement. "For which I am grateful, but it is nothing that we do not do with the lamas root."

"Still, their medical skills are unmatched. They expect the one named Stackhouse to walk again. When Alet Sianven lost his hand, he soon succumbed to fever. Veral's crushed foot never healed right. Their doctors speak of performing operations the like of which even the surgeons of Sukan would never attempt, let alone do so successfully."

"I do not argue that an alliance is unwise," Halling said. "But we should be just that - allies, nothing more."

"Kanaan, what are your views?" Teyla asked.

"I believe that friendship with the Tau'ri is the greatest opportunity that our people have had in a thousand years," Kanaan said slowly after a few seconds of consideration. "They have done something that no one has done since the Ancestors fell: destroy a hiveship. We have been helpless against the Wraith our entire lives, and by entering into a close partnership with the Tau'ri we may finally have a chance to fight back against them. Furthermore, as Halling said, we must consider how they have treated us. When the Wraith attacked, Sheppard brought us here to safety, with no reason to do so besides kindness and honor. They have allowed us to stay here, eating their food and using their medicines, when they can hardly afford to support themselves, and yet they have not so much as hinted that we should leave. Even when they thought that one among us had betrayed them, they did not cast us out to be consumed when the Wraith came. In fact, as I have heard, Major Lorne was never less than courteous and polite as he conducted his investigation."

"The same cannot be said for all of his men," Halling retorted. "Even now, the one called Bates watches us with suspicion. Many of the others look down on us, thinking us primitive. You cannot deny having heard them speak amongst themselves at time."

"Then we shall teach them that we are not," Kanaan said. He smiled. "Besides, would you have them judge us all to be bitter and scornful like Tiron? If not, perhaps you should judge them by the actions of the whole, rather than just Bates."

"I agree," Charin said. "They are generous and loyal when they have no reason to be. I judge them to be worthwhile partners. However, even partners need space. We were once a much more numerous people, until the great blights and famine of my grandmother's generation. Many tribes fled to Manaria, Silvara, and other worlds, intending to return when Athos was once more bountiful, but only ours came back. The others had mingled with their hosts and been absorbed. The Tau'ri are as numerous as us, and will be even more numerous should they ever reconnect with their homeland. We must be wary of losing who we are by living too closely with them."

"I am not sure that we can return home even if we wished to," Kanaan said. "The land around the gate is now barren. As for the other camps, many were damaged by fire and we are already approaching autumn. Perhaps in spring we can return, but even that is not guaranteed."

"We must also consider that the Wraith may watch Athos closely," Teyla said. "The hive that first attacked us is now gone, but a second has lost darts there and elsewhere. We must tread carefully."

"The Tau'ri know many gate addresses that have been forgotten by us and others, some of which may lead to empty worlds," Halling said. "We could settle for a time on one of those."

"I have heard that there is land on this world, not far from the city," Kanaan suggested. "Perhaps we could live there."

"We would be apart from the city, and yet still close enough to reap the bounties of living here," Teyla said, considering the idea carefully. "It would take time to find a place to settle safely, no matter which way we choose. I shall discuss it with Doctor Weir and see if she has any recommendations." She took a deep breath and held it for a moment. "Whatever we decide, I shall be remaining here."

"Why?" Halling asked with wide, startled eyes.

"As you know, I have been travelling with Major Sheppard's team to assist them as they explore other planets. We have decided that this arrangement is worthwhile and should become permanent," Teyla said. "I owe John a great debt, both personally and for our people. I must repay that, and I can best do that by traveling at his side."

"Surely you can do that while staying with our people."

"If I am to venture through the Ring with them, I must live closely with them, at least for a time," Teyla said. "To go to other worlds while unfamiliar with my companions would folly. I must retrain my reflexes and learn their habits and ways."

"And if you are close to their leaders, you can advise them, perhaps moderate their actions," Charin said. "Yes, if they are to remain here and delve into this city's secrets, it would be best to have someone to watch and guide them."

"If anyone can convince them see reason, it is you," Halling said with a nod. His mouth was still set in a small frown, but nonetheless he looked like he accepted her reasoning. He knew how important it was to know those you travelled with well, and no doubt he would rest easier knowing that someone observed what the Tau'ri were doing.

Halling was not the only one looking discontented now, and when Teyla next spoke she did so with a glance at Kanaan. "I am sure I will be able to visit often. I will no more forget my responsibilities as leader and mediator than I will forget my debt to Sheppard, although I think perhaps it will be well for Parle and Andren to practice their skills without my direct supervision."

Kanaan snorted. "Your apprentices are more likely to start a feud than end one."

Most likely with each other, Teyla thought. She was relatively certain that when she had been learning the arts of mediation that she and her long-dead partner Bitren had not been nearly so fractious, although perhaps her father might have disagreed. They were young, though, only on the cusp of adulthood, and had time yet to grow.

"The experience shall do them good," Teyla told him. "My decision is made in any case. Are there any other issues that must be discussed at this time?"

There was nothing else of immediate import, and so they soon went their separate ways. A short time later Teyla was able to meet with Doctor Weir and discuss the future of their peoples' partnership. Weir did not seem surprised at all that the Athosians were growing uncomfortable and wished to leave, no doubt because of her own long experience with mediation and negotiation. It was a job that required considerable skill at reading people's moods even if they were concealed. It was also likely that Weir's own people had heard grumblings of discontent and reported them. In any case, she was willing to assist the Athosians in finding a new home on the mainland or another world and soon arrangements were in place to begin a search for a suitable location.

When it came time to eat, Teyla made her way to the Tau'ri communal dining hall rather than return to the levels her people occupied, planning to make good on her intention to being integrating herself with her new allies. The food was unfamiliar to her, but she was used to eating strange things and the young man who was serving was eager to help her find something palatable. Once her tray was full, she turned to scan the crowd for a place to sit.

"Hey, Teyla! Over here!"

Teyla spotted John sitting in one corner with an upraised hand. She walked that way, pausing midstep for a moment when she saw he was not alone but then continuing. She reached the table and sat down at the open chair, next to Colonel Mitchell and across from Major Lorne.

"Good afternoon, Major Sheppard," Teyla said. "Colonel Mitchell. Major Lorne."

A chorus of friendly greetings and smiles came in reply. She expected no less from John and Cameron. Her instincts told her that John was a good man at heart, for all that he was hard to read behind his mask of friendliness, and Cameron was genuinely one of the most cheerful and optimistic men Teyla had ever met. Lorne, however, was more of a mystery. One moment he was warm and kind, and the next he was coolly leveling dire accusations at Teyla and her people. The speed with which he switched from one to the other left her wondering which was his true nature. That uncertainty was unsettling to her.

The major's personality was something she could study at another time, however, and so Teyla said, "I hope I am not interrupting you."

"Course not," Mitchell declared.

"We were just doing some inappropriate fraternization," John said, causing Mitchell to scowl at him while blushing slightly.

"So to speak," Lorne added. Mitchell turned his glare on him.

"Fraternization?" Teyla said. She did not believe them to be brothers, nor could she see how that would be inappropriate.

"Mitchell is our commanding officer," Lorne explained. "As such, he's not supposed to be overly friendly with any of his subordinates and keep his relationships with them purely professional."

"Luckily for him, he was friends with both of us beforehand, which means he can tell himself it's too late to worry about strict professionalism instead of forcing himself to be all lonely and depressed," John said. He waggled his eyebrows in a very odd manner and added, "After all, once you've fraternized as much as we have, it's a bit hard to go back."

"I've never fraternized with him," Lorne said. "Bit of a shame, that."

Teyla frowned. "I thought simply being friendly was fraternization."

"It is," Mitchell said firmly. "Just ignore them. It's safer for your sanity."

"I see," Teyla said, not understanding at all and not sure she wanted to. "Your ways are very strange."

"No, Sheppard is very strange," Mitchell told her. "Our ways are normal."

"Says the man who grew up in a cult," John said.

"My family is not a cult."

"Sorry, sir, but it is a bit cult-like," Lorne said. "Although maybe it might be more accurate to compare your mother to a mafia don."

"You two can shut up now. That's an order."

As Teyla began to eat and listened to them squabble, she thought that perhaps she was wrong and they were brothers, in spirit if not necessarily in blood. It was a good sign for the future, she decided. For all their strangeness and power, at the most basic level they still acted like any good-hearted people she had known. It gave her hope that her trust and hope were not misplaced and that these people could finally destroy the Wraith. Only time would tell if that was possible, but she knew that they would fight and when they did so she would be there alongside them.


End file.
